Across Runeterra - Garen's Odyssey
by OneBigOx
Summary: Captured during an assault on the mage rebellion by Noxian agents, Garen is separated from Demacia by thousands of miles, his way barred by a rapacious empire, frozen wastes and hungry jungles that want him dead. Thus his adventures across the world he has never seen begin, with strange friends by his side, stranger enemies in his way and with a single goal in mind: return home.
1. Prologue: Dreamless

**Prologue: Dreamless**

The first thing Garen felt was drowsiness, then pain, then stench. He opened his eyes, slowly shaking away the drowsiness and pain. The stench was not his to shake off, however. He eyed his surroundings, slowly taking in his predicament. His mind awoke just enough to get a grasp of the situation.

He was in a prison cell… a Noxian prison cell.

He tried getting up, but he noticed the heavy pig iron chains tied to his arms and legs. He was chained in a kneeling position, no doubt to prevent him from reacting and escaping fast enough. He heard the flickers of a torch nearby, which brought just enough light on his bars to notice his cell was a solitary. He knew exactly what that meant to an enemy of Noxus.

His mind tried to recall what brought about this situation; the rebellion in Demacia, mages fighting the knights, him leading the Dauntless Vanguard against their leader and symbol, Sylas. The last thing he remembered was him charging at Sylas before both their forces were ambushed and his last sensation was a sharp pain in his exposed shoulder. Then… nothing. Only a dreamless sleep. Before he could try and break free, he heard a door opening and light footsteps accompanied by heavy ones approaching. He looked up to see four Noxian soldiers and a red-haired assassin who he knew all too well.

"I thought I told Swain I need no escort."

"Apologies, Lady Du Couteau, but the Grand General insisted."

"Why? Who doesn't he trust this time, me or him?" The red-haired assassin known as Katarina Du Couteau pointed one of her daggers at him. Garen finally put the pieces together, looking to the ground with disappointment at himself and worry about his home.

"It's only for protection, my lady." Another soldier attempted to soother her, but she put her other dagger at her throat without even looking.

"I'll ignore that this _once_. Leave us be and stand by the door. You know how many knocks it is and in what order." She threatened. The soldier saluted as soon as Katarina's dagger was away from her throat. The soldiers then exited, shutting the door with a heavy clang, a staple of Noxian doorways.

She took out a key from her jacket pocket and opened the locks to his cell. He heard her footsteps edge closer until she was right in front of him.

"Not even gonna look at me?" She asked. It wasn't venomous, nor was it sarcastic. It was just a question.

"Why, you need a reason to feel guilty?" His question, however, was laced with venom.

"You don't think I already do?"

"I honestly don't." This time, it wasn't sarcasm, but the venom was stronger.

"You did the same to me. Now that I have done it to you-"

"You escaped."

"I came back for you, damn it!" She wasn't talking about the imprisonment. It happened when he captured her; after she tried to get free by cutting a wooden bridge they were both on, she, he and many of his soldiers plunged into a deep ravine. After that, however, they were forced to work together to fight off a massive beast that was both angry and hungry. It cornered them, she managed to escape and Garen was left to fight alone… or so he thought. She came back for him, although she never said why. She still escaped afterwards, however.

"I should've chased you. I was weak then and I am chained now."

"Well, good for you, 'cause now you know how I felt that day, dragging you behind me."

"I was expecting a knife in the back. You delivered, it seems, and in a perfect fashion." He still didn't look up. It was worse than a silent treatment or anything her father, Swain or even Talon did to her. She still didn't know why. She knelt down, face to his head.

"Why did you come here, Katarina? What do you want?" He sounded exhausted all of a sudden, like he was tired of dealing with her.

"Grand General Swain has ordered your execution." It was meant to shock him.

"There's a surprise." It did not.

"Along with one other prisoner. I still can't believe we caught _her_, though…"

"Who?" He managed to mask the unease in his voice; his mind immediately thought of Lux.

"A very willful Ionian blade witch. You haven't even heard of her, probably. Come to think of it, you don't need to." At least it wasn't Lux. She got up.

"I petitioned for the General to free you."

"Why?" This one managed a shock out of him, although it was subtle.

"You're more useful to m- us… alive. Before you even start, the General managed to extract some of your mind's secrets. Most of it useless junk about you, your prince and your sister, although that bit about the mage rebellion peaked interest." This was alarming; if Swain had that power, what else could he find out?

"Unfortunately, that was as far as he got. You have a, as the Grand General himself put it, strong, tenacious and irritating mind, even when unconscious. I thought that-"

"No."

She sighed. His stubbornness reminded Katarina of herself. They crossed paths, blades and destinies, but they always pulled in different directions, directions they thought were best for each other, but they were only the best for themselves. She thought many times and was even advised by Cassiopeia and Talon to let him go.

So why couldn't she?

"I'm trying to help you, dammit. Come tomorrow, your head is getting separated from your neck in front of all of Noxus Prime and being sent back to Demacia. I'm trying to stop that, so quit being a dickhead and help me help _you_." Just like before, she was slowly getting irritated at his pride and honor. He knew every Demacian would rather die than surrender and Garen was their paragon, especially in that regard. She hoped that his sense and survival instincts might have a little more hold over him after the ordeal. They did not.

"He'll never agree and you know it. _I'll_ never agree and you know it. Stop wasting your time on things you'll never have." That one cut the air, sharper than any dagger she had. Somewhere beneath the surface of her soul, a small part of her selfish zeal poked out. It looked through her eyes at his exposed nape, whispering at her to pull out her daggers and carry out the sentence right here. It would be true satisfaction. She silenced and drowned it quickly, lest it take over her. The last time she let that happen, Talon gave her a scar on her father's orders. She already stood higher than both of them, but she could still fall prey to her former self.

"Why did you come back?" He asked. It wasn't venomous or sarcastic. It was just a question, one she had no answer to, for herself, Garen or anybody else.

"I don't know, OK? I just… thought that was the right thing back then."

"And what about now?" Another simple question with no answer.

"I'm not so sure."

"Neither am I." He sighed. She looked down, hoping to see his face. She didn't want to beg, to bend knee and search for his eyes. She hated to admit it, but he was more stubborn than her in that regard.

"Garen, I don't thi-"

"I have nothing more to say to you, Katarina. Leave me be." He sealed both his own fate and a part of hers. The selfish part was back again, its second wind trying to wrest control of her body, judging by her hands moving towards her daggers. She knew the only way to quiet it down was to appease it, even if by a small bit. She drew them and sliced at the bars with her full strength, almost slicing through them. She didn't care who watched anymore.

"I hope your head rots before your sister or your prince even see the damn thing." She opened the door forcefully and shut it all the same, leaving with her head low. Only in that moment did it cool off, leaving her thoughts clear. Swain knew Garen would never submit. It was the only reason he allowed the visit. The guards were only a ruse for her to not turn back; Swain knew she might have second thoughts if not tested and tempted. His intention was to make her see with her own eyes what she had agreed to… what she had accomplished in doing for Noxus. It both brought pride and sickened her to her stomach.

With the final sound of the door being shut, Garen knew the next one would be his last. To say he was at peace was a lie. He worried about home, his family, Jarvan… so distant, far away to a city of white, blue and gold. He thought of the forests of Silvermere, sprawling out beneath the high city, the tamed raptors circling above the clouds, screeching with pride and stretching their wings. He envied them sometimes, having all that freedom and natural loyalty to their own kind. Humans were never that simple. He thought of the rivers running through the countryside, towns, villages and farmlands thriving along their shores. He remembered running through the forests and along the shores, dragging or giving a piggyback to Lux.

'No.' He halted his thought, calm and content. He wanted to have something for when closed his eyes one last time. He saved the few memories of Lux smiling at him for last.

Irelia awoke, taking in a deep breath; the stench passed quickly, but her lungs still needed time to get used to it. She was chained down, her head enveloped by magic-distorting circlet with strange runes. She could think straight, but could focus her will and couldn't find her blades. She took in her surroundings; a runic cell, with the same symbols as the ones on her circlet and her bonds, which she noticed on her wrists and ankles. She was facing the wall, with what little light she had coming from behind her. She tried prying and pulling, but every pull merely tightened the grip until she stopped struggling, at which point it loosened.

She remembered fighting on the shores of Navori, the local fishing villages still in flames, families running and screaming. What little warriors they had left were no match for the assault. She fought them off alone, almost cutting them all down… until _they_ revealed themselves. The new Grand General, his most trusted subordinate and the monster juggernaut of a man they thought they killed. She was alone, but the villagers depended on her. She never gave up… and neither did they until she couldn't fight them off anymore and was overwhelmed.

Before she could recollect or try anything else, she heard footsteps and a door opening and shutting behind her.

"You've grown, little Blade-Witch."

That voice… she remembered his voice. The voice that condemned countless of her people to death, that ordered the assault on the Placidium and that screamed when she took his arm. He walked before her, standing tall and proud, yet dour and stern. He revealed his left arm, replaced with strange eldritch energy, roiling and hungry but for what she couldn't tell.

"Am I to seek revenge for my poor departed arm? If anything, girl, you did me a favor." He said, tone seasoned with amusement and sense of irony.

"Get me out of these chains and I'll do you another one with your neck." She returned the insult.

"Charming. Unfortunately for you, I need it for my head to function. It's the only one that's worth anything in this empire."

"Oh, I'm sure there are plenty others with some humanity left in them. Oh wait. I forgot. It's Noxus. There's nothing human here, only dust and pretensions of strength." That one got a chuckle out of him.

"Pretensions? Very well, little Blade-Witch. Tell me what strength is." He knelt down, his chuckle over and dourness returned. He looked at her like she was almost dry refuse. She couldn't fathom how someone so antisocial- no, downright sociopathic could rule over a whole empire. Maybe it was a staple of all Noxian rulers.

"I'd explain, but what can be explained in one sentence would take a lifetime for you to understand. Judging by your whitening hair and wrinkles on your… everywhere, you don't have that kind of time. So I won't even bother." She wanted to spit in his face, but she was dehydrated.

"Acting defiant because you don't know the answer? It appears I was mistaken earlier. You haven't grown at all, little girl. You're still that child at the Placidium, yelling like a spoiled brat for freedom. I learned much that day, when I crawled, bleeding through the dirt with a ravenous demon gnawing at my very thoughts. I learned about strength." He grabbed her with his demonic arm by the neck.

"Strength is not an illusion, child. Nor is it passion, stone, steel and flesh. It is will, pure and simple. It is the will to sacrifice, to do what others cannot and to show them that they will never be your equals… that is strength. That is Noxus." His stern face did not change, not even in the low red light shimmering from his arm. Neither did her determination.

"And those few sentences, 'Grand General', are the reasons why you will never understand true strength and why you and all of Noxus will never escape this hollowness of might. Like I said, I won't bother. Now, if you're done gloating, either kill me or let me go so I can kill you. Even if I don't, _someone else will_." The first parts were a mix of pity and threats, but the last part was spoken with such conviction that is sounded like a fact to him, something that unnerved him even now. He didn't show it on his face, as he trained to all those years ago. His hand, however, loosed her neck.

"Pity. I was hoping to extract more information, but it seems your mind will not give me anymore. No matter. Come tomorrow, your head, along with the Demacian's, is getting sent home. The rest of you is getting fed to the drake hounds." One part of that sentence caught her attention.

"Demacian?"

"The pieces are finally in place, little girl. All I have to is wait my turn. And neither of you has much time left. Noxus' victory is all but assured over both of your irksome nations. I must admit, though, you both put up quite the fight." He stood up, dusting himself off.

"But now, it is time for Noxus to strike the final blow. Both of you resisted me even when unconscious. Your minds and wills were strong, but you are defeated, worn out and bowed. Your fates are inevitable. Fitting that they should be intertwined." He walked out of sight, opening the door.

"Farewell, little girl. I'm glad we met that day." With a tiny, almost unnoticeable merriment in his voice, he shut the doors. She breathed out, sighing out of relief. She didn't steel her will to stand defiant.

It was to conceal the fact that she had hid a small shard of her emblem under her armor. It would have been troublesome if he were to extract that secret from her.

'Yes, General. Your turn is next. But that won't be the end of the game.'


	2. Noxus - Defiance

Noxus - Defiance

The crowds were gathering from all over the empire's towns, villages, cities and even some travelers and traders from the free nations of the west. The executioner's plaza was filled to the brim, with Noxian troops struggling to find newcomers seats and views. Every gate in the city was open, with people still pouring in. The stands were soon filling up as well, people of all ages coming to see Noxus' triumph over two of its most hated rivals and perhaps the beginning of a war, a war that would bring all of Runeterra under their rule as they deserved. The only ones not to attend were the merchants from across the sea, from Piltover, Shurima and Bilgewater.

Swain observed the gathering crowds from atop the Immortal Bastion, flowing like rivers conversing into one single great pool, a simple vision of a greater world that would be the future of Noxus and of Runeterra. She defied the might of Noxus many times, making it clear that brute force would be met with equal response. But that was Boram's way, a way he, Darius, Draven and the rest of his loyal Noxians made sure to eradicate, from the lowest bastard child to the highest royal heir. It was a weakness, a plague wasting away his beloved empire from the inside out. The first thing they did was fortify what they already had, but conquest was more than just a way of life for Noxus. It was their soul. It was all they had ever known. Peace had to be taken and enforced, not earned and brokered. So they would take it, not just by force but by any means necessary. Subterfuge, diplomacy, subjugation and espionage were only a few of Noxus' tools. To bring peace, fear had to come into play and in order to place it on the board, the ones who were the most susceptible to it had to be shown what happens to those who were not. Examples had to be made, either from Noxus or from the other nations.

"Sometimes I wonder if you come up here to just feel afraid." The gruff, stern voice of his confidant and friend Darius came from behind him. Swain couldn't help but crack a small smile.

"I wonder the same thing too. But when I come up here and look out there at all that, I don't see fear, old friend. I see truth. I see only Noxus and it is beautiful. The harsh steppes shaping those strong enough to survive, the beasts cleaning the bones of those who aren't, the skies bringing storms and rain, the caravans bringing all that belongs to Noxus to the city… I don't feel afraid at all. I don't see _my_ fear, Darius. I see _theirs_. I feel safe." He rarely confessed his feelings about his empire to anyone, but Darius was a man of many actions and few words. If there was anyone that would acknowledge and keep secret his true feelings, it was him.

"Hmph. Even when that witch sends assassins after you?"

"LeBlanc's games are tricky for you to understand, my friend. You don't need to worry yourself about that, though. As far as she and I are concerned, I am ahead in the game, due in no small part to you." He turned, seeing Darius' relief, but also a tinge of concern on his stoic face. Over thirty years since they were mere foot soldiers, Legionnaires and finally leaders, he learned to read even the subtlest hints in his eyes.

"Something troubles you. You wouldn't have bothered me otherwise. Come, talk to me."

"I have a strange feeling about this, Jericho. This seemed too… easy. I know your plans were thought out to the last breath we and they took, but almost nothing went wrong. Especially with Crownguard." Darius voiced his unease.

"That is why we have taken every precaution to ensure today goes as planned. Once the executions begin, the entire city will go into lockdown. Archers will be posted on every overlooking roof and of course, you'll be personally doing the deed. I trust no one else to swing the axe at their necks. The heaviest pig iron chains are binding the Demacian and the girl is being restrained by magic-distorting seals tailor-made in Piltover. I have taken her weapon to the chamber of the Trifarix, where it is bound by my magic. Every available guard is patrolling the city, looking for spies or anyone that might interfere in the slightest. Everything except the harbor is locked down. I would lock it down too, but we need some commerce flowing for today. Even a single day's stop is bad, given our dependence on it. Every single person in the crowd is being searched for anything suspicious. Mark my words, Darius. Today must go off without any mistakes and we have made sure of it." Swain summarized Noxus' attention to everything. Today was about putting fear on the board and he had to make sure its place was cleared of suspicions, coincidences, accidents and interference.

"What did you see, Jericho? In their minds, I mean?" This, however, was new. Darius has never been one to ask about his visions, merely trusting and following them. He truly was uneasy.

"Fractures. Fragments of their homes. They are both divided amongst themselves. Ionia and Demacia are in turmoil. It is the perfect time to strike the nail with the hammer and crack their resolve." Swain subconsciously gripped his demonic hand.

"And what about them? What about Crownguard and the girl in particular?"

"Only useless memories and pain."

"Nothing else?"

"They resisted me."

"Even when unconscious?" The last question was asked with a hint of trepidation.

"Their wills are stronger than anything, my friend, which is why we must end them both today. _You_ must end them both today, proving Noxus' triumph and strength over any foe. I know you will, though. Of that, have no doubts, just as I don't." Swain put his right hand on his shoulder. He preferred his human side over his… stronger one when it came to his trusted ones.

"Did it put you at ease?" Swain asked, already knowing the answer.

"It's a start." Came the expected response from Darius.

"Speaking of starting, it's almost time. We should get going." Darius hoisted his massive battleaxe on his shoulder. Swain, taking one last look at the land, followed him down.

The Executioner's Plaza was already roaring with praise to Noxus, Swain and Darius, with many others condemning their enemies. The guards, armored in the heaviest black iron armor and armed with the finest weapons and the sharpest arrows, were observing them, covering every angle. At the entrance, the sacred statue of the Wolf loomed over the masses, its sharpened granite teeth reminding them of the one inevitable truth of life and the fate of their enemies should they choose to defy Noxus. From the highest point, the Glorious Executioner observed, scoffing with boredom and a spice of envy.

"Bleh. Why does he get to kill them? I mean, I get privately, but in front of everyone? It really should be me down there, making a perfect spectacle out of it. Once in a lifetime opportunity and _he_ gets it…" Draven, pacing back and forth while twirling his spinning axes, voiced his 'personal' disapproval.

"The General is the one who must strike the blow in order to inspire the empire. Draven, this is the twelfth time we're going over this. Can you just sit down, not get any bad ideas in your head and watch your brother do his duty?" Tamara, Darius' personal warmason, sighed at his brother's egotism. It was always present and she could tolerate that, but not when it came to important things or anything that concerned Noxus as a whole. She still held it against her general for telling her to stay with his brother, though. Before either of them could continue their banter, a pair of light footsteps made their way to the observation point.

"I see you two are getting along fine. They allow commoners up here now?" Katarina stepped onto the dais, looking down at the crowds.

"Spare me your insults, assassin. I didn't know your kind liked to admire their work. Or is it something else you want to watch?" Tamara bit back.

"Tam, come on. She did a good job capturing the Crownguard. Yeah, it probably wasn't flashy and had absolutely zero style, but even I know the importance of a well-placed dagger." Draven holstered his axes on the rack next to the seats, taking a seat on his personal chair decorated with golden seams, drakehound furs and Shuriman ivory, just enough to let everyone know it was his but not enough to outclass him.

"Huh… didn't know you were even capable of giving credit, Draven." Katarina sat to his right, sneering at the warmason on his left, who pretended to ignore her.

"Only where it's due, Kat. Only where it's due." As he finished the sentence, the crowds erupted once again as Jericho Swain and his brother stepped onto the plaza, heading to the center. Swain turned to the crowds, taking in the energy while at the same time looking for any suspicious activity. The Trifarian Legion Guards were among the most elite, but only he could see the proverbial little stones that would trip them up by the slightest or the dust specks that would obscure their vision. All was calm… for now.

"At attention, Noxus! Your Grand General has words for all of you!" Darius somehow managed to outdo a crowd of thousands in volume, a fact Swain was grateful for and Draven, Katarina and Tamara amazed by.

"Noxus! Since our origins, we have known only one way of life and that is war. War has shaped us, culled our weaknesses and developed our strengths. War has provided for us. Others have called us brutes, inhuman and monsters. They see our discipline, strength, will and convictions as a means to decry and demean our glories and our victories. But as war has shaped us, we must now shape it. We must use the gifts it has given us to save this world from itself and make no mistake, my fellow Noxians, this world is vast. Through our discipline, we follow the roads it has paved for us. With our strength, we march forward and remove those who stand in our way. Our unified will gives us and reminds us of our purpose. Our convictions hold us true to ourselves and to our empire. All of them together make us who we are, who we have chosen to be. They make us Noxian. We are one empire, one vision and one people. We… are… NOXUS!" As he finished his speech and raised his demonic hand which flared with power, the crowds erupted yet again, louder and more numerous than even before, shattering the air with the chanting of their empire's name. Even Draven and Katarina had to admit it was quite a speech, short but truthful, spoken from the heart and inspiring. Darius soon joined in the chant. The Trifarian Elites, while still vigilant, wore smiles on their faces, some obscured by their helmets. Swain kept his vigil but allowed himself a small smile, fueled by the chants.

This was Noxus' day and it was only just beginning.

* * *

The doors to Garen's cell opened, him raising his head after hearing heavy footsteps. An entire unit of Trifarian Legionnaires was here to escort him to his death. They secured his limbs first as two removed his chains, the rest of them with weapons pointed at his head, heart and other vital organs. As soon as the shackles were off, they immediately slapped heavier ones on his hands and feet and put a bag over his face, leading him out of the cell. He could hear the crowds already, even through the thick granite walls.

On the other side of the prison, Irelia was slowly being dragged to her feet by her runic chains, the guards keeping their weapons on her neck. Putting a bag over her head as well, they led her out of the corridor. She focused her mind, still keeping a grip on her shard; it was tiny and hidden under her circlet, but she was surrounded and bound. Without her crest, it would be impossible to fight her way to freedom. She only had one shot, but her mind was slowly coming to the realization that it would be the last shot she would take. She had to make it count.

The prisoners were led to the plaza, hearing the crowds more clearly now, all of their sneer, hatred, pride and joy. They were both surprised they weren't pelted with anything, but Swain had forbidden throwing of objects at the prisoners until after their heads rolled off their bodies; he couldn't completely deny them satisfaction as it wasn't beneficial to anyone. He wouldn't admit it even to himself, but a part of him would throw an orange at both their carcasses.

Their bags were taken off, letting them see everything; the people, the walls, the skies and their captors. After taking it all in, they turned, seeing each other for the first time. Garen saw the woman's eyes, filled with strength, courage, will and a tinge of curiosity. Irelia saw the man's tenacity, determination, pride and a little hope, its light tiny but bright in his. They were forced to kneel by their captors, both their necks on worn, cracking wooden posts stained with dry blood. The metal joints clanged shut, securing their necks in place while the guards chained them down for extra insurance. Garen's vision was shadowed by a large visage, one he recognized all too well.

"It seems you have won, Darius. Congratulations." He simply said to his rival. Darius scoffed, hefting his axe.

"No. It was not my victory. If it was, you'd not be kneeling and your head would already be rolling off your shoulders. This victory… belongs to Noxus." He spoke the truth. If there was one thing he learned from fighting him, it was that he always meant what he said. Garen heard the disappointment in his words and understood it. When they first met on the battlefield on the northern border, they matched each other perfectly. Unlike Katarina, who usually turned tail when a fight was going south for her, Darius got back up. In the end, neither of them relented to the other. They loathed admitting it, but they found respect for each other that day. Now it seemed so distant, unsettled and cast aside in the wake of Noxus' 'victory'. Garen turned to his fellow captive, her eyes focused on Swain, burning with cold fury not unlike Shyvana's or Fiora's. There was something else there, however. Bitterness… judgment… condemnation… it was difficult to tell.

"Who is she?" Something prompted him to ask, unsure whether it was curiosity or a simple request.

"She's a dead woman." Garen turned to Darius, disgust and disapproval meeting deadpan and dour.

"Consider it my last request." He said half-joking.

"Noxus doesn't honor last requests."

"I wasn't asking Noxus." Something in that sentence got to Darius. Garen saw it in his eyes. He gave him a moment. Darius was a man who rarely thought of himself most of the time. He considered it a form of strength… for Noxus.

"She's one of the more famed figures of recent Ionian history." Darius relented, keeping the fact that he did it out of respect to himself.

"At the climax of the Noxus-Ionia war, she rallied the Ionian forces at their most holy site, called the Placidium. She fought Swain, cut off his arm and drove the invasion back almost single-handedly." Darius pointed his eyes towards the Grand General. Garen on the other hand, looked at Irelia, a young woman close to his age and yet so determined, decorated and dedicated to her home.

"Very much like you, Crownguard." As if reading his mind, Darius finished his thought. He turned back to him, his axe's blade at his own feet scraping the granite, as if being honed by it.

"Fitting you two share the same fate at the hands and eyes of Noxus." He finished. Swain turned to Darius, signaling the beginning of the end for the symbols of their rivals. The guards went on full alert, weapons at the ready. The crowd fell silent as Swain walked before the prisoners.

"I will grant you both one final decision. Who will go first?" He asked them. Irelia looked at Garen, who kept looking at his captors. She thought fast; should she risk it and go first or let the Demacian do it? He didn't know of her plan to fight and kill as many of them as possible. He beat her to it, however.

"I will." He answered without turning to face her, bowing his head and exposing his neck. She readjusted her plan, the small unnoticeable blade shard shimmering to life, awoken by her will. Her mind turned to her fellow captive, however; what were his thoughts? Would he fight with her? Would he even have the will to break out of his bonds? Would they stand together or fall divided? She felt her grip on the shard loosen and immediately tightened it, steeling herself for one last dance in the mortal world.

Garen prepared himself as Darius loomed over him, slowly lifting his axe. His mind drifted far away from this place, to a place of green hills, fertile grasslands filled with crops, trees ready to bear fruit and rivers flowing slowly towards the great blue ocean. He thought of the commoners, pillars upon which Demacia was built, working the fields, picking crops and living their lives in peace. He thought of the children running around in the fields and streets, pretending to be one of the famed heroes of Demacian history and hearing stories of them. His thoughts turned to the capital, to parades celebrating Demacian holidays and current heroes to busy markets on a sunny day. He found himself on the steps of the Citadel of Dawn, where his friend and soon-to-be-king Jarvan IV welcomed with a hearty hug, taking him in where he found many, including his parents and the Seneschal welcoming him with pride and joy. He looked up to the throne, seeing King Jarvan III extend his arm. A glint of light and they were all gone; he was back in High Silvermere at the Crownguard estate, the commoners and servants living there welcoming him home. He walked to the entrance, seeing a lone figure at the entryway, shimmering with golden light although the sun's rays were nowhere near it. The figure's hair came into view, its golden locks loose on her shoulders. Her face revealed a warm smile and eyes brighter than the sun itself. His sister's arms spread, inviting him for a hug, something rarely shared among both of them. He didn't care, however, and went straight for it, arms around her, her hair brushing against his chin. He was home… truly home.

Darius saw his rival's eyes close and face change to that of content and peace. He rarely saw these kinds of faces in his enemies, never truly understanding how they accepted their fates that their mistakes led them on instead of correcting them. Perhaps he never would. It did not stop him from wanting to know, though. His axe was fully above his head, casting a looming shadow behind him. He looked to Swain, who nodded.

It felt like a long deep breath, freeing them of the world's troubles and trials. The silence gave way to serenity, the clouds parting slightly to allow one tiny ray of light to shine on the dais. The axe swung; a glint reflecting of its honed edge and into the crowd's eyes. Garen breathed out, letting his sister's warmth wash over him one last time.

And then, he opened his eyes.

The shard was fast and unnoticeable. It flew past Swain's vigil, not even a whisper of a wind to mark its presence and struck Darius in the exposed chink in his armor under his belly. He staggered, making his axe swing wide and into Garen's shackles, shattering them. Time slowed down for him, the illusion of Demacia and his closest ones cleared and his swaying executioner right in front of him. The feeling of freedom took hold of his hands, then his neck and finally his mind. His will returned. His hope returned.

With a heave of sudden might and a few precise motions, he broke loose the chains binding his feet and the wooden post binding his neck. Before Darius could recover, Garen threw the chains around his neck and arms, breaking his hold on his axe, grabbing it and putting the sharp end on his neck. Before Swain could react, the crowds were in an uproar, the legionnaires struggling to figure out what is happening, much less keep them at bay. The archers were at the ready, but their general having an axe to his throat and his captor positioning him in front of their arrows made it difficult to get a clean shot. From the high stands, Draven was already out of his seat, grabbing his axes and rushing down the stairs.

"Draven! Dammit, not now… What are you looking at, peasant?! Get after him! I'm going down the roof." Barking out orders at Tamara, who had no time to retort, Katarina jumped from the stand, navigating through the rooftop hoping to get to a better position in time. Darius was in a bad spot and Swain, no thanks to his policies of not having an escort in order to display his strength, was completely exposed. Who knew what other tricks that blade witch had in mind, but her mind was strangely on Garen, hoping he wouldn't make a bad move. Part of it reminded her he already made the worst move possible in that situation, but she ignored it and kept going.

Garen scanned his environment; the only exits that were unblocked were the two leading back towards the prison. Swain was holding back, but his demonic hand flared ever so slightly, ready to blast them. A grunt came from beneath them; the Ionian woman was trying to get his attention, her eyes pointing to the runic bind on her head. Edging near her, he lifted the circlet with his free hand. The moment it was off, Irelia felt her strength return. She slowly dug the shard out of Darius' flesh, slicing the runic cuffs that held her like paper. She rose up and stood ready beside her Demacian ally. They shared a look, Garen conveying gratitude and Irelia telling him their lives are still hanging on a thin thread. Darius' mind finally recovered from his failure and sought to fight. He loosened the chains on his that they exposed his mouth enough to speak.

"STOP STARING, YOU IDIOTS! FIRE!" Garen covered his mouth with the chain, but the order was out. Swain moved out of the way, silently praying the archers' aim was true. They came from all sides, sharp lines blotting out the sky plummeting down on them. Irelia breathed in, steadying her mind; her body felt the wind being pierced by the arrowheads, sensing their trajectory. She waited until they were close, the moment right for her motion and reach. Eyes up and open, she guided the shard perfectly across the air, slicing the arrowheads in one fluid motion, feeling the aimless wooden sticks fall to the ground. Garen watched in awe, marveling at her skill, although his lawful part reminded him this was some form of sorcery. He silenced it forcefully, gratefulness overcoming tradition. The last three arrows, however, escaped her shard's path, heading straight for Garen's neck. She turned to warn him, but he reacted faster, moving Darius' massive pauldron in the way, the arrows bouncing off harmlessly. Irelia silently thanked the Spirit for giving her a worthy ally. They were still surrounded, but they would either be free or take as many of them as they could with them to the next world.

"Reload!" Swain gave the order, the archers loading a second salvo in seemingly practiced unison. The crowds were growing restless; some of them trying to get to the prisoners while other screamed for them to die, let their general go and other profanities. Through them, Draven shoved his way through, trying to reach the dais; the first salvo was lucky, but Noxians are Noxians. Strength is all that matters to them and his brother was no different. He would die by his soldiers' own hands if it meant pulling the execution off. Images of his corpse flashed across Draven's mind, littered with arrows, a torn cape at his back and a broken axe gripped by his lifeless hand. He started shoving harder, hope and despair melding together inside him, spurring him to get there before the second salvo was fired. The archers' bows and crossbows were strung, arrows at the ready. Irelia steeled herself for another deflect while Garen tightened his grip on the chains, hoping to use Darius as a shield. Swain readied his eldritch magic; once the salvo was fired and the blade witch distracted, he would launch his demonic wave at Darius and pull him out of Garen's hold, hopefully unharmed any further. It seemed today, however, that even his own chess pieces worked against him.

Draven leapt over the legionnaires, throwing one of his axes at Irelia, who barely dodged it. She saw the other coming a little too late, however, raising her arms in futility. A loud clang and pain-filled groan made her lower them, seeing her ally move his captive into the axe's path, its edge striking and shattering his other pauldron. It was now or never; he looked to the prison entrance and then back to her. She glanced at the entrance, understanding his intent and nodded in agreement. The axe that hit his brother's pauldron was now slowly twirling towards Draven, who preparing to catch it. It gave Irelia the opening she needed; she directed her shard, hurling it with lightning speed towards Draven's left leg, kneecapping him and making him trip and drop the axe. The archers were at a complete loss, having too many important people caught in the crossfire. Swain silently cursed the buffoon for foiling his plan, making him drop his guard for a moment, which Garen noticed. With a swift motion, he unfurled the chains from Darius and shoved him towards Swain, opening the crucial window in this suffocating confusion for them to escape. He and Irelia dashed away into the prison entrance, dodging and deflecting the occasional arrow. Making sure Darius was able to move, Swain wasted no time with his frustrations on his brother.

"You imbecile. I had a plan. All these years and you still act like everything revolves around you." He would've raised his voice further, but appearances had to be maintained even now. Draven just scoffed, making sure his brother's injury wasn't too serious.

"You're welcome." He said, the light disdain in his voice not going unnoticed by both of them.

"Enough! We need to lock down all escapes and establish a perimeter around the city. They cannot be allowed to escape. The citizens will help. Their posters are in every tavern, home and wall. They won't get far, but we need to contain this now." Darius found himself being the voice of reason, a fact he was getting used to being between his brother and his general. This was the worst time for it, however, and they needed their heads back in the game, especially Swain.

"What a mess… How did that bitch even-! Nevermind. I'm taking a platoon and covering the south-west exit." Ignoring the pain in his leg, Draven signaled Tamara's squad which just came in, speeding out at the lead with them following. Darius grabbed his axe, his rage-tightened grip nearly bending the iron handle.

"No." Swain stopped him, knowing immediately that he wanted to follow them down the entrance.

"I can't let them get away, Jericho."

"We won't. They'll slip up, just like we did. Patience, Darius. I have a feeling the girl will soon be coming to us." Swain turned around, heading through the crowds towards the Immortal Bastion.

* * *

Garen and Irelia came to a halt in an isolated supply room, catching their breath. They looked at one another, unsure of what to say; it had been easier in the heat of battle for them to understand each other, but now they weren't even sure they spoke each other's language. Garen was suddenly grateful for the language lessons Lux made him attend with Xin Zhao.

"Thank you." He spoke, Xin's thick Raikkon accent imprinting itself in his speech. Irelia's surprise was hard to mask.

"You… speak Ionian?"

"Some of it, yes. It's mostly the basics… like conversation starters, metaphors, idioms… those sorts of things." Garen explained.

"My name is Garen." He introduced himself.

"Gay-ren?"

"No no no… Ga-ren. It's just like it sounds. Try it." He encouraged her. They were having a pronunciation lesson in the middle of escaping from the capital of one the most warlike, unforgiving and brutal empire on Runeterra. The absurdness of the situation was not lost on him.

"Ga-ren. Huh… it feels weird, but easy to say. Ga-ren. Gaaaaa-ren." She was already having fun with it. He didn't know whether to be insulted or happy.

"I'm Irelia. It's pronounced Aye-"

"I'm honored to meet you, Irelia." He made the Ionian courtesy bow and pronounced her name perfectly. Irelia was jealous, but more curious as to how he knew Ionian customs. Luckily, she remembered there were more important things to worry about.

"Right. Well, now that that's out of the way, why did you lead us down here?"

"There is a high probability this prison has more exits than one."

"What makes you say that?"

"They put bags over our heads, didn't they? Noxians don't take chances with prisoners. They must not have wanted us seeing our surroundings before our executions, meaning…"

"One of those hallways outside leads to the city. Well, that's step one. What's step two?"

"Honestly, I'm making this up as I go. This is my first time here and I have to say, not one of my top vacation spots." Garen cracked a half-joke. Irelia, however, had something in mind for step two.

"Well, once you're done sightseeing, the city's lockdown will catch up to you. Your only way out is the harbor. It's the only thing open for trade with our execution in the process. If you're quick, careful and lucky, you can stowaway on one of the ships bound for either Freljord or that other city in the south, what was its name... Piltover." She said with ears perked for any sounds from outside.

"Wait, what are you going to do? Don't tell me you plan to die fighting here."

"What's it to you?" She asked, half-miffed and half-earnest. Garen had neither an answer nor a justification. The question just came out of him.

"Anyway, I need to get to the building with the three triangle towers."

"The Immortal Bastion? Are you insane? That's the seat of power in Noxus. _Everyone_ will be there, armed with _everything_."

"I know, but my weapon is there. I need my blades back. They're… the only things I have left."

"…Seriously?! For a few _blades_?" He couldn't believe that he was hearing she was willing to march into the Immortal Bastion for such a mundane motive. Her angry look made him pause, however.

"They aren't just blades, Demacian. They're all I have of my family. I'm going to the Bastion. You can't convince me to back out, so stop trying." Her cold fury cut through his logic, making him give up, something he wasn't used to. Then again, he had never seen a true Ionian, much less talked to one. He didn't know how they thought or felt.

"Fine. But say you somehow miraculously retrieve your weapon. What happens then? How will you get out?"

"I don't know. I'm making this up as I go."

"… That's not funny."

"Oh, so it's only funny when you say it?"

"That's not what I meant by- Fine! I got it. I get to the ships and you die in glorious combat against Noxus. Sounds like a plan… of some alien sort. But we first need to escape without being seen. And I think I've got an idea." He spoke as they heard two pairs of heavy metal footsteps approach. Luck was on their side today as they were male and female. Irelia quickly grasped his plan and waited until the soldiers were close enough. Once they opened the door, the duo quickly and swiftly ambushed them, Garen knocking out the female through her helmet with a single punch while Irelia sliced through the male's exposed tendons, cold-clocking him with her knee. After making sure their armor was the right size, they stashed the unconscious guards behind one of the heavy racks.

"Ow. Not only is their armor tough on bone, it's pointlessly heavy too." She spoke, barely able to keep her balance with all the extra weight on her. Garen moved effortlessly in his, making sure everything was strapped on tight.

"We better swap out helmets. Don't want them seeing our faces before we even get a chance to escape." He said, handing Irelia a masked helmet. She groaned as she put it on, the mask smelling of sweat and flies.

"Seriously… don't they wash these things? And how is your fist not injured from the metal? I think I almost broke my knee on that damn head of his." She pointed to the guard.

"Training. Lots of training." He shrugged. They scanned the halls, hearing another patrol coming by.

"All right. Here's the plan."

* * *

"All exits are blocked, Draven. No way are they getting out without being spotted." Tamare informed the Executioner. He twirled his axes impatiently.

"Which means they're planning to ambush us down there. They would've had some time to study the layout, though. We gotta do this with style. I can only fight in a more open space, however. Tam, have your squad clear a hallway for me to fight in once we confirm their location and headings. I need a clear shot." He was being focused and serious, a change Tamara was not used to. Darius being taken hostage like that must have shaken him. It certainly shook her. She followed the orders without her usual snark. From down the hallway, two legionnaires appeared and saluted.

"Report."

"Sir, they're in the northeast wing, last spotted in a supply room. All other platoons have been alerted to their location and are gathering there now, surrounding them and awaiting your orders."

"Good work. Stay here with Tam. The rest of you, with me."

"Sir, what about the girl's weapon? We heard she was a mage and may have more of those hidden blades on her." The other one asked.

"Pffft. Don't worry about it. The girl's crest is in the chamber of the Trifarix in the center of the Bastion. She won't be getting it." He scoffed, heading into the prison.

The legionnaires saluted as they and Tamara watched them go. They reached the supply room, the other squads covering every exit and hallway.

"They're in there. We think they might've barricaded themselves, but we can't be sure. They're definitely armored and armed. What do we do, Executioner?" One of the legionnaires briefed him. Draven knew behind that door was an ambush waiting to be sprung, but who would be caught in it was up to him.

"Once that door opens, move out of the way. I'll toss an axe at it to give you enough room to maneuver, but we have to rush them. It's the only option we _and_ they got. On my mark…" Draven readied his axe, while the legionnaires readied their weapons and repositioned themselves. One shot was all it would take, but they had to make it count.

"Go!" At his command, they knocked the door down, Draven throwing his axe with enough force to shatter granite inside. It embedded itself in the wall while the legionnaires rushed inside. There was a moment of silence as they scanned the room.

"There's no one here!" That sentence churned his stomach; where were they?

"Wait! Behind the racks." The legionnaires spotted their fellow guards tied and unconscious. One look at their missing armor was it took for Draven to realize it, horror dawning on his face.

"Ta-Tamara!" He rushed past the guards back to the entrance. From the distance, he saw her body on the floor, his mind assuming the worst and yelling at him that it was his fault. He reached her, turning her over. She was only out cold, lifting the weight of his stomach and mind. Another dropped on them, however; the prisoners were out in the city, amongst the crowds wearing disguises. A groan snapped him back.

"Those… bastards… they were-" She struggled to say, but he shushed her.

"I know. Sorry, Tam."

"You… better be… Ow…"

"Stay still, all right? You, inform my brother. The prisoners are out into the city, wearing disguises. Put everyone on the exits. Have them send troops to the harbor. It's one of the only ways out of the city. Move!" He barked at a guard, who rushed out. Draven helped the woozy warmason on her feet, her face clear almost clear of pain and starting to fill with anger.

"We gotta get after them."

"Agreed. Together, this time."

* * *

The city was still in turmoil, people in the streets searching for any sign of the fugitives. Posters were being handed out to the citizenry while guards were scrambling about the walls. Through the masses, two figures blended in, taking a poster as to not look suspicious and following the crowds. Irelia spotted an isolated alley with no windows facing it and plenty of cover from the street and motioned Garen into it. They took off their helmets, Irelia glad to breathing fresh air again although the armor still weighted on her.

"Not bad, Demacian. From the looks of things, we're near the center of the city. The harbor is northeast of here." She surmised, eyes cast towards the Bastion looming over the city. She turned to her ally one last time.

"This is the last time we will speak, Garen. You should go. Get to the harbor, find a ship and get yourself on it somehow. I can handle it from here. Thank you for everything." She moved to leave, but Garen grabbed her by the hand.

"Are you sure about this? Do those blades mean that much to you?" It was an honest question, but filled with fading hope that she will answer differently than before.

"They mean everything." The least she could do was return an honest answer. He hesitated yet again, Irelia kneeling beside him.

"This is my choice. Please, Garen. I need to get to the Bastion." Her eyes locked with his, conveying her emotions as much as he could understand. He closed his with frustration, but opened them with resignation.

"Good luck, then."

"You need it more than me." She stood up, facing the alley's northern exit. She smiled at him before putting on her helmet.

"Farewell, Garen of Demacia."

"Farewell, Irelia of Ionia."

She blended into the crowd perfectly, following a street to the Bastion. Garen breathed in before putting on his helmet and leaving.

The streets were bustling, tension and mistrust at a risk of breaking out. Noxians' wills were tough, but this recent debacle was testing their limits. It was easy for Garen to maneuver through the districts and locate the one leading to the docks. Passing through the tall black gates, he reached the harbor; it was busier than the whole city put together, with merchants offloading wares from almost every corner of the empire. There were things there he would never have thought to have seen of Noxus; art, pottery, supplies in droves, exotic fruits and vegetables and even a few bits of Piltovian technology, although they weren't functioning. The docks were separated into various districts, with different crests marking them. He recognized the Freljordian armor crest, the Piltovian gear crest and another one with a serpent coiling around a blade, no doubt the Bilgewatian crest. A lot of their ships were getting ready to set sail, the ocean welcoming them almost as much as tempting him. Freedom was his, but he had to reach carefully for it lest his hand gets cut off.

He turned looking at the Bastion, its shadow looming over the entire city, promising only death for him should he turn around. There was nothing left for him back there and those ships only offered a small window, especially the Piltovian and Freljordian ones. Doubt and hesitation gripped him; why did he want to return? _She_ chose this, she said so herself. Horns sounded off from the Bastion, calling all guards back. It was her. No doubt about it. This was his opportunity to escape. There was no more hope for her…

He started running towards the Bastion, his mind using every synonym for the word 'idiot' on him, his heart quietly smiling in content.

* * *

Irelia ascended the steps of the Immortal Bastion along with a squad of Noxians she joined, luck being with her as their route took them through the castle. She passed the walls, wincing slightly at the shadowy and oppressive architecture; even when building things, Noxians were truly merciless, both in their construction methods and their designs. There was only form and function for them; no senses, no heart, no soul… She snapped back, her body inside the massive structure, with more rooms, halls and stairs draped with flags styled with the Noxian symbol of strength, their very emblem that represented dread to her and her people and the adversities they had to overcome. It was all around her now, its ruthless gaze reminding her that she does **not** belong here and she should leave lest she dies. Bravery had been her greatest attribute, however, and she looked back the blackened eyes in defiance, just like she did all those years ago. She searched for the stairway leading up the tower to the center circle of the Bastion, where she felt something calling out to her. It was feint and muffled by some form of magic, but she recognized its shimmers, its warmth and its caress.

'Just like O-ma's… Hold on. I'm on my way.' She hoped the message would be conveyed to her family as she headed for the source of the shimmers in her mind; the Xan family crest, one of the deadliest weapons in Ionia and the symbol of Ionian defiance, will and grace. Evading the guards in plain sight was easy, but climbing the stairs in the armor she was wearing was not; she had to stop to take a breath every few minutes, usually out of sight as to not arouse suspicion. She finally reached a massive black door, the Noxian crest marking the first line of defense she had to overcome. Behind this door was her crest, all that was left of her family apart from her memories of them. The door stared back at her, as if asking was it truly worth her life. Irelia thought not of her family, for they were already so close. Neither did she think of what else could be behind that door. Her thoughts were of Garen, wondering if the Demacian made it. He seemed stubborn, if not determined. A small part of her wished they had more time to talk; his was the only friendly face among thousands of soulless demons. It didn't matter anymore. Her crest was waiting. Her family was waiting. Her soul was waiting.

She took off the armor, pieces falling to the ground with loud clangs, as if cleansing her of filth. The smelly helmet certainly needed it. She breathed in the fresh air, taking in freedom for what seemed like the second last time today. The small blade shard floated to her side, ready to take its master home or accompany her to the next world and to her family. She breathed out and pushed the gates open, as if the breath itself blew them open.

Swain stood in the room' center, his legionnaires in formation in front of him and the Xan crest bound in crimson sorcerous chains behind him.

"Welcome, little blade witch. We've been expecting you."

* * *

Katarina stalked the rooftops, her lithe steps and jumps carrying her through breezes, gaps and noisy alleys. She received information a few minutes ago that the prisoners are wearing disguises. Looking down to the streets, she searched for even the slightest suspicion in any of the guards. She inspected the harbor first; that's where he'd- they'd go. She couldn't get it out of her head, that small human part of her hoping he was alone, hoping they would end up in the dark together. The assassin part of her told her he was nothing more than an enemy of Noxus. He had chosen his side. Both parts agreed that even if they should find themselves in the dark together again, he would try and drag her out in the light. They always crossed, but they always pulled in different directions, thinking that it was the best for the other. Her thoughts gave way to reason when she spotted a lone guard walking towards the southwestern watchtowers. Noxian guards were in uproar and struggling to get their bearings straight. This one walked with a purpose. It had to be him. She followed, staying out of sight, behind any light and against the wind. She couldn't risk anything… at least until she faced him.

Garen walked towards the stairs of the watchtower; the trebuchet at the top was crucial to his would-be plan. Reaching the top, he was confronted by the crew.

"What news from below, guardsman? Why are you alone?" One of them, no more than eighteen years old, asked him. Garen didn't want to hurt the boy, but the realities of war and the consequences of his choice reminded him to stay the course. He knocked him out with an uppercut, grabbing his iron mace and throwing it at another crew member who reached for his horn, knocking him out as well. The last two members, twin girls not any older than the boy, rushed him, their blades out and screaming as loud as they could part to distract Garen and part to alert anyone close enough to listen. Garen grabbed them by their throats, ducking beneath their swipes and slamming them as hard as he could to the ground. Delivering a swift kick to each of their chins, he looked to the loading mechanism of the trebuchet; it was oiled up and well-maintained. Part of him was grateful for Noxian attention to details when it came to war. After checking below the hatch for anyone hearing the commotion, he began pushing the massive catapult to face the Bastion's center structure, a small triangle connecting the three immense pillars together. It was meant to symbolize the unity of the Three Principles of Strength, but more importantly it was the also the location of the chamber of the Trifarix. The logical part of his mind flared to life; what guarantee did have he wouldn't hit the Ionian? What would happen afterward if he inexplicably hit the mark he intended? How would she know what to expect? What was the point of coming back for her?

He silenced it and lifted one of the heavier boulders, carrying it on his back. Loading it on the sling, he drew back the mechanism, the sling completely pulled back and the trebuchet aimed at the center. He took off a gauntlet, feeling the wind in his hand. Before he could act any further, a small shift in the shadows behind him alerted him. He didn't even need to turn to know.

It was her.

"I'm surprised you didn't find me sooner." He put his gauntlet back on, facing the redheaded assassin, taking the boy's polearm to substitute his sword.

"What are you doing back here, Garen? The harbor's that way." Katarina brushed a loose strand of hair of her face, her blades drawn at her side. She didn't spot the Ionian anywhere. Taking a look at the trebuchet's aim, she scoffed at the assumed notion.

"Are you kidding me? One last strike against your enemies? Come on. You're… smarter… than this…" The realization slowly dawned on her; the Ionian bitch was inside the Bastion. Her weapon was there. Something else flared up inside her.

"You came back to help her?" It ignited a strange feeling inside her, a feeling that was distracting her. She was having a hard time silencing it and focusing on him.

"We're escaping. You're welcome to join us or to try and stop us." That sentence only threw oil on the fire. She raised her daggers, readying herself. Garen took his stance as well.

"After everything you did? Are you serious?"

"No, but it was worth a shot." He charged first, Katarina barely dodging the thrust. Grabbing the polearm, she used his own strength to propel herself in the air, aiming for his neck. He grabbed her right arm, spun around and slammed her into the ground. She leapt away immediately, ready to strike again.

"You ever not gonna go for that move?" He taunted.

'Good. I need you overconfident.' She thought, making a grimace to mask her intentions. It was time to use it. She dashed towards him; Garen recognized this move as well. It was a special technique that only she could; a lightning fast blink in an unpredictable spot, aided by her enchanted daggers.

'Why is she taking that risk…? Unless…' He noticed the dagger beneath him too late, a dagger she slipped when he was keeping his eyes on her during her initial strike. Katarina blinked to his right, going for his tendon. He moved the polearm just in time to deflect the dagger, but the foot to his chin went unchallenged, staggering him. She blinked away again, ready to attack.

"You've gotten slower, Garen. Usually that leg would've been caught." Now came the slow disarming. He was distracted by something, that something probably being his plans going to hell. It was another tool for her arsenal against him, however… and it took a **colossal** arsenal to bring someone like Garen down.

"Maybe I have, maybe you've gotten faster. Maybe I don't care." He said, already recovered from the blow. It frustrated her how quickly he healed. She had no time to be angrier as he charged her again, polearm swinging low. She leapt over the swing only to be brought face first into his fist, knocking her to the ground. She got up yet again, but Garen lowered his guard.

"Katarina, let me go. We can either settle this with words or I can beat you into unconsciousness. Your choice." That was the last straw. She was done trying to save him.

"You threaten me in my own city? Ok, I'll humor you. What does a lone Demacian in a city of Noxians armed to the teeth thinks he can do to me?"

"Noxians, one Demacian _and_ one Ionian. Be careful with your words."

"No. I'm done with them." She lunged at him again, blinking behind him going for his neck. A swift elbow to her gut stopped that plan, Garen continuing his offensive and swiping at her. She kept moving back until she was against the stone slabs, the streets beneath inviting her to death. As he swiped, she vaulted over him, putting a scratch on his cheek but receiving a blow from the polearm's handle to her hip as a result. Before she could even begin to rise, he was charging her; she remember how fast he could be and scrambled to get to her feet, but Garen reached her first, swinging an uppercut strike with his polearm. She had no time to dodge and brought her daggers up; they only shattered against the swing, the shards scratching her hands and the force of the blow knocking her back against another slab.

"Enough, Katarina! We're done. Either move out of my way or I will shove you out." There was steel in his voice sharper than anything in her arsenal. He always made good on his promises, even if he didn't say the words. Words… questions… were they all that were left between them?

"Why did you come back?" It made him pause. Did she honestly want to know? Was she stalling for something? Taking a breath? It was his turn to humor her.

"I don't know." Same answer, different context. Rage turned to pain inside her. He didn't know… but she did. It's who he was, who he would always be. She was just another soul that needed his help, both that time and now. He offered it freely, but he wasn't a fool. He knew when someone didn't want it… and when someone didn't know the difference between kindness and pity.

"I tried, Katarina. By the gods, I tried… but we have too much between us."

"Like what? Your country that's in turmoil because of the foolish laws you follow and enforce? Your Demacian pride that's shoving your head so far up your glimmering ass you can't see anything? Your petricite tower which protects you from the dregs beneath you, clamoring for the scraps you throw at them, calling it mercy?" The pain gave way to strength, pushing her on her feet one last time. He paused, every single accusation in that sentence hitting its mark. He didn't want to believe it, but deep down he knew; Demacia was far from perfect. The laws were meant to protect them from themselves, but they only succeeded in dividing them. Their pride was meant to be a source of strength, unity and courage, but it only pushed those they tried to help out. Their walls were meant to protect them, but they imprisoned them. Nothing was perfect there…

… And that's why they had to do something about it. That's why **he** had to do something about it.

"You're right. The laws aren't perfect. They are still heavy stones, unable to be moved by anything and easily cracked by anyone with a whim. But I believe they can one day be diamonds, solid and shaped perfectly by the unison of my people… of all Demacians." Hope started out a small spark, a tiny light in the endless dark. And then… it grew…

"The laws aren't perfect and maybe they never will be, but that is no excuse for us not to strive to make them such." He removed his helmet.

"Our pride has made us tough, but brittle. I was, and maybe still am, the best example of that. I believed through and through that we stood united because of it. Over the years, it has turned us blind to the real problems plaguing our kingdom. It made us ignorant to the problems of those we were trying to protect." He looked to the skies.

"Our pride should make all Demacians equals, not separate us into castes." He turned to her.

"Our walls kept our eyes closed to the outside world, to its troubles. They kept us safe, but also sleeping, drowsy and oblivious. The petricite kept the magic at bay…" He hesitated; his mind couldn't believe the words that were forming after that sentence, but his heart spoke something else after seeing Irelia's skill, intent and will with one small shard, her human instinct and a simple wish to recover what was rightfully hers. He realized what the laws of Demacia were obscuring.

"… but not all magic is evil." Though he couldn't fully believe them, he spoke them either way. His convictions turned to another target, however, one that was still having a hard time finding her solid feet.

"I have known her for only a few hours, the briefest glimpses of her true self, and I know she is a mage, but I would trust the Ionian more than I would trust you, an assassin dedicated to an empire that knows only hunger and blood, that only takes and pretends it belongs to them, that masks its stolen cultures with illusions of inclusiveness and merit, rewarding dedication by bleeding you dry even more until you are nothing but bones for its drakehounds. This is my choice, Katarina. What is yours?" The way stood there, eclipsing her, his expression stoic and judging her actions awoke a deep buried memory of her father. It was another sore spot for her, even if Garen didn't know it. It was also her breaking point.

"Oh, just **put a lid on it already**! What do you know of Noxus, huh? We weren't born in a nurturing land, rich mountains and fertile fields. We weren't born friends or raised with ideals while having our faces stuffed with food and drinks. The steppes forced to either kill and eat or get killed and be eaten. Our enemies rode down the slow and gave up on the fast. Don't you get it?! There were always only **two** choices for us. There was no time to make peace with yourself or your family while you're busy trying not to die. We _earned_ our place on this putrid planet, unlike you and that Ionian whore, born with gifts and raised into greatness by the very lands you now protect and kill for. But it didn't stop there. OF COURSE IT DIDN'T! We turned _into_ our enemies, realizing their strength was now ours. We had _taken_ what we killed, put it to better use that they did, for all those that participated, that joined us. Others began calling us monsters, but we were more human than all of them, the weaklings, the frail and the fearful. We kept fighting, forging and pushing until we began shaping our own fates. AND GUESS WHAT?! We were still monsters in their eyes. Nothing but 'bones for the drakehounds', huh? Drakehounds are more useful to Noxus than bones, Garen. But everyone that defied us now serves us because we have earned their respect and their loyalty. We had to show them strength… because there was **no.** OTHER! **WAY!**" Everything that had been building up since she met him, every tiny fraction of judgment and every single fracture between them was now out of her, her soul flaring in her eyes and fists, her heart thumping in her ears and blood rushing freely throughout her unhindered. She looked into his eyes in defiance…

… and got only stoicism in return.

"Did you ever ask nicely?" He responded. Katarina's anger turned into confusion; was he mocking her, after everything she said?

"Wh-What are y-?"

"Did you ever **ask** for help?" It stood there, floating in the air, turning it volatile. One single spark from either of them was all it would take.

"It never even crossed your mind, did it? Back in the ravine, if I hadn't offered to patch you up, would you have asked me to help?" He looked at her. Her mind now went blank. She just stared at him, a lost soul not knowing where she is. _Now_ his kindness turned to pity.

"Even the mightiest human warrior can starve to death, bleed out from an unseen cut or succumb to an infected, untended wound. We are not invulnerable, Katarina. Noxus is not invulnerable nor is it eternal. It is just another empire in Runeterra's history. It will either crumble or disband with only books, stories and myths to keep it from dying completely. Demacia is also just another kingdom, made from mortals, by mortals and for mortals. It was not made to last, no matter how many of us wish it so. Same goes for you and me. We are human. We are not the stars, the great Aspects of Targon or the legendary Ascended. Our stories may be told, some true while others embellished, but make no mistake… we will die. What matters is how we treat each other now, in the briefest moments of our lives being together. And that, Katarina, is what someone like you will never understand. That is what an empire like Noxus will never learn to do." He said with decisiveness in his voice, signaled by him putting his helmet back on. A red glint of power shimmered from the center structure of the Bastion. It was now or never. He ignored her and moved to the firing mechanism. Katarina regained the tiniest part of her senses and instinctively drew another pair of daggers, lunging at him.

"Do you know when an assassin is most vulnerable, Katarina?" He asked, her furious scream muffling most of the question. She leapt over him, one dagger thrown at his right knee while the other went for his jugular. He dodged the first one and effortlessly caught the other, disarming her and holding her by her wrists. He stomped on her left foot to keep her from squirming and looked her in the eyes one last time.

"When they become predictable." Answering her question, he slammed her head against the wood, knocking her out for good. Lowering her to the ground, he felt the wind a second time. It was perfect, giving him hope that his aim and the moment would be as well. Without further hesitation, he pulled the lever and launched the boulder.

* * *

Irelia clenched her fists, focusing the fires inside her soul into the shape of a sleek, curved blade, cooled by her love for her home, her family and her people. The shard turned towards her adversaries, its sharpest tip pointed towards Swain's head.

"I knew you would find your way here. It called to you, didn't it? I felt its strange magic even as you were separated by a mile from it." He touched the chains, feeling the weapon's shimmers through them. He felt something else as well; a buried memory of a long-forgotten failure, when he was younger and more eager to prove himself to fools who would never acknowledge his deeds. It was fading now, his accomplishments recognized by Noxus itself, not by fallible human rulers. Now those accomplishments were being challenged by a single emotional, impulsive and dangerous human, the very things he swore would never threaten Noxus, even if it was himself. At this moment, the girl before him threatened to destroy all he had accomplished just by being defiant. He would _**not**_ allow it.

"Did you really think you would enter here unnoticed? Every single guard knew who you were the moment you crossed that palace gate. They were fortifying every exit, closing and locking every single door after you, making sure you had no escapes. Should you try to run, you will find it a bit more challenging than staying here." He pushed the crest aside and stood ready, his demonic arm flaring with power and his legionnaires pointing their weapons at her.

"Do you remember our conversation, Grand General? Back in the dungeon, where I was shackled and you loomed over me, proud and triumphant?" She asked him, a sly smile on her face. Swain steeled himself.

"Shall I remind you? You told me strength is pure will and the ability to do what is necessary. I told you, you would never know its true meaning. But then again, you never did let me explain and I didn't have the words for you then." She closed her eyes, her face tranquil and focused.

"Allow me try again… in a way you'll understand."

A single flicker of light was all Swain and the legionnaires could register from the shard as it sped past their spears and through their shield formation's chinks. Two fell at first, their throats sliced open, blood pouring out from beneath their helmets. They advanced, another two falling before they could even reach her. When their spears were in point's reach, they thrust towards her head and heart. Effortlessly dodging beneath their tips, she swiped her shard at their legs, each hit slicing through the armor and crippling their front lines. When they collapsed, she jumped into the fray, cutting necks, arms, spear tips and their very breath. She twirled through strikes, dodged shield bashes and sidestepped charges. Before long, the entire battalion was at her feet, bleeding out or dead. Her dance was not over yet, however.

"Now then… where were we, General? Ah, yes. Strength." Irelia walked through the groans and corpses, a sharp-talon flame-wreathed phoenix eyeing its prey, a lone raven amongst a field of death. Swain stood unmoved and unfazed by her feats.

"What now, little girl? Are you going to educate me on the subject? Mayhaps try to appeal to my human side, thinking that it will give me compassion? Or is it something else you consider strength? Fighting for your homeland, a people so chaotic they turn on you the moment you disagree with them… or honoring bones of those still whose memories drag you down?" Swain slowly accrued the demon's power through him, the collected memories and secrets empowering his flesh and mind. She kept her pace, as if the proverbial wings on her back were furled for the right moment. She listened, but did not fall for any of his words.

"No, General. It's not any of those things…" She came to a stop a few feet in front of him.

"It's seeing every injustice, corruption, soullessness and ignorance barreling down on you… and standing your ground. It's telling the ones who cannot fight that you will do it for them. It's fighting against all odds and when you fall… you get back up again." She took her stance, readying herself for one final duet with death.

"Bold words, **girl**…" His body began to change, darkness overtaking him, black wings spreading on his back. His eyes and veins pulsed with blood red light, the demon fully released from within him and melded with his body. His voice uttered one final challenge in an eldritch tone.

"… **BUT THEY MUST BE PROVEN!**" He raised his hands and blasted her with demonic power, knocking her back. It took almost all of her strength to hold herself on her feet, sliding across the bloodied floor. A brief moment of respite and she dashed with a shout as Swain rose from the ground, absorbing power from the dying soldiers. The shard floated to her side like a feather from a wing and she brought it down on his hands, which erupted with power once again, blocking it effortlessly. Phoenix and Raven clashed talon on talon, ground and wind rattling from their magic.

"**Your magic has gotten better, little girl. I wonder if your mind has kept up…**" Swain, the demon empowering his vocal chords, questioned his foe. Launching a demonic claw under her feet, he dashed to the right. Irelia recognized the attack, but she also recognized his strategy; he was buying time for himself until he was fully charged. This was just a ruse to get her to keep her distance. She dashed towards him, her magic carrying her through the air and his energy blasts. His claw returned to him, but his plan hit a snag when she sidestepped it and kept swinging the shard at him. He kept firing blast after blast at her, trying to keep her moving. She had grown, both in mind and power. The second he stopped, she moved in closer. He raised his demon hand to block the blow, but it never came.

'The crest!' He barely blasted it from her reach, keeping her away from it. He had hoped it would stall her mentally. Instead she laughed.

"What's the matter, General? Are you afraid?" She was tired, but determined.

"**Of course, girl. Only fools fear nothing. And you marched in here without fear to hold you back. Of course I fear you, blade witch. I cannot, after all, predict what a fool would do.**" He wasn't afraid to speak the truth. Although she was trapped, she was erratic, stubborn and deadly, the worst kind of fool he could encounter. Things usually had a way of crumbling before these types of people no matter how much preparation was done to avoid it. He had to finish this battle quickly. Luckily, his time was almost near.

"**It appears I underestimated you. You do know strength…**" He fired both a claw and a lightning blast at her, maneuvering her into position. When she was near him, he focused his magic into a single point, summoning a demon eye above them, a bright red light shining out of it and covering the room. Irelia saw it too late, trying to regain her footing and sight. The magic hit her, pain coursing throughout her entire body and sapping her mind. She forced herself to endure it, but before she could move, Swain grabbed her by the throat with his demon hand, making sure his grip was tightened around her larynx. Behind her from the door, a new battalion arrived, blocking her way out should she try to escape, if she could somehow break out of Swain's grasp.

"**… but you are too manic to wield it, too weak to control it and too emotional to be prudent with it.**" He squeezed, but she kept him from piercing or breaking her neck with both her hands and what was left of her will. Even when dead, she refused to stay so. It irritated him. His power was fully charged; it would finally be the end of it. Then they could focus on finding the Demacian. Noxus would have compensation for these insults. He would make sure of it.

"**Give my regards to your people when you see them. Farewell, little blade wi-**" He gave one last goodbye, but his empowered hearing picked up a whooshing noise from outside the Bastion. It was closing fast… and heading straight for the room. He turned too late; the boulder smashed into the structure, bringing the walls and part of the ceiling down on him. He threw himself out of the way, but the force was too much for him; he was blasted into his troops, his magic going off uncontrollably and blowing many of them into pieces, armor chunks and screams. His vision almost went dark, but he kept going. The demon inside him retreated, exhausted and weakened from the blow; when he let it meld with his body, it was a two-way link and Swain knew it. Whatever pains his body felt, the demon felt it also. He looked around, face straight but mind horrified at the massacre and mistake he just committed.

"Where did that boulder come from…?" He uttered silently, but his ears picked up something else. Chains falling to the ground… blades hissing and whirling to life… iridescent with magic and emotion…

He looked up, the final nail of his coffin of failure embedded in it. The Xan family crest floated free above Irelia's head, pulsing with magic, separating itself into blade shards. She had fully regained her powers, the mirage of a soaring phoenix crossing his eyes, her blades turned to mighty wings and her eyes blazing, eyeing their wounded prey. It wasn't real… but it made her look terrifying.

"Round two, you Noxian bastard."

Irelia charged him, her blades flying at her side. She threw one out at him, but he dodged it and blasted her again. The blades contorted into the crest, shielding her from the blast and when she was close, she pushed it outward, striking him in the chest and knocking him off balance.

"Is that all, girl?" He taunted, still going strong. She smirked and connected the blade he dodged to her crest, firing dozens of tiny shards at him from both sides. He spotted them too late, his armor cracking under the assault, the blades chipping his knees and face. As he staggered, Irelia brought the blades directly into his stomach and chest, managing to pierce the armor and leave a few stab wounds before being blasted away by his lightning, her blades missing his throat by a hair's width. Swain struggled to maintain his feet, his knees almost buckling. He heard footsteps from behind the door and limped out of the way. The doors were swung open, Darius, Draven and Tamara arriving with a squad of elites, ready to defend the General.

"Jericho!" Darius went over to his leader, trying to get him on his feet.

"I'll be fine, Darius. Thank you. The girl is still an issue." Swain took his shoulder, supporting himself. He turned to the defiant blade witch, who was retreating, a giant hole in the structure revealing the open sky and howling winds. She knew she only risked being overwhelmed once again against this many, but then noticed the crumbling opening. Running to it, she looked outside; the boulder had been launched from somewhere and by someone. She scanned the walls until she spotted a catapult out of place, a lone legionnaire at its front, pacing left and right looking at the structure for something. Even from this distance, he spotted her, waving at her enthusiastically. Her mind was baffled, but her heart and soul soared; it had to be him. There would be time for that later; she had to escape. She looked downward, people and soldiers already gathering to see the commotion, but what she looked at were the walls. The granite was tough enough to hold her. She turned to her opponents, dodging Draven's thrown axe, it falling below and bouncing off.

"Thank you for holding on to this for me, General. Until next time." She said her farewells and jumped off. Twirling midair, she thrust her blades flat into the wall, stepping on the flat parts like stairs. She began running down, rapidly making 'blade stairs' and descending in zig-zags. From the tower, Garen watched in awe at the Blade Dancer's feats, a smile forming uncontrollably on his face. Shouts of anger alerted him to the crowd gathering below; they weren't focused on him, only on Irelia's escape. Archers were preparing to fire at her, their arrows coated in oil and sconces aflame near them. Without thinking, he leapt from the tower, a thunderous roar with his homeland's name on it.

"**DEMACIA!**" Its boom was loud enough to break through the commotion and orders, startling everyone beneath him. He crashed into them, knocking many of them to the ground and skewering three unfortunate enough to be right under him with the polearm. He pulled the polearm out of their carcasses and started swinging it, decapitating two soldiers with one swipe and knocking others to the ground. He thrust into a charging legionnaire, piercing him and two more behind him, but the force was too much for the polearm and it snapped after Garen nailed them to the ground. One of his victims carried a massive black iron broadsword, however, similar to his sunsteel one. He wrenched it from her hands, turning to the approaching squads surrounding him. He gripped the broadsword tight and charged in. Once he was close, he started spinning, slicing through their armor like paper. Once he had enough room, he continued on to the Bastion's wall where his ally was descending.

Irelia ran towards the bottom, dodging volleys and spears thrown at her. Reaching the bottom she found a battalion waiting for her. They were no match for her anymore as she tore through them, slicing up limbs and heads. She searched for Garen, spotting him surrounded by another battalion that was too afraid to come near him, the pavement at his feet littered with carved bodies and chunks of armor. She moved unfazed, the unarmed Noxian crowds too scared and too smart to get in her way.

"**IONIA CALLS!**" Her warcry broke the formation as she threw her crest forward, it exploding outward into a deadly formation of blades marking the legionnaires with magic. She summoned her six largest blades back to her and dashed effortlessly soldier to soldier, carving and killing the entire battalion almost zealously. She stopped right behind her ally, recalling all her blades and reforming the crest above her head.

"Are all Demacians as insane as you?" She asked him, very irked and very glad at the same time. He just smiled.

"That's right, kettle. Talk to the pot." He retorted in the same tone.

"What?"

"Demacian expression. I'll explain later, if we survive. This place is gonna be crawling with Noxians soon. I know a way back to the docks."

"What? How?"

"I scouted it out while coming to get you. Follow me." He ran ahead, the Blade Dancer following behind watching their backs. They snuck through another alleyway, this one leading to a hole in the ground.

"The sewers?" Irelia was less than thrilled.

"Either that or the afterlife and I don't think I can come back for you there." Garen was already halfway down the rusty stairs, careful not to put too much weight on each one.

"Ugh. Fine." Irelia followed him down. The escapees reached the bottom, raw sewage, rats biting at each other and whatever scraps they could find, strange oozes and a smell that could knock a full-grown basilisk out surrounding them.

"…I hate you." She needed it off her chest. He chuckled and continued onward.

"The docks were west of here. Hopefully the section we're following will lead us right to them." He passed through the sewers, following lit torches and running water. Noxians were at least serious about keeping things orderly, even in this place.

"Why did you come back for me?" He expected it, but he wasn't prepared for it.

"…Garen?"

"I couldn't leave a friend behind, all right? It just… just…"

"Wasn't in you? I know the feeling." She put a hand on his shoulder. They continued on in silence, reaching an opening, noise and running water entering into another marking it as the one they've been searching. Irelia contorted her blades back into a crest, letting it hang on her back. She peeked out, scanning for foes and more importantly for a soon-to-embark ship.

"What do you see?" He asked. Irelia turned to him, a solemn expression on her face.

"We can sneak by if we're careful and lucky but…"

"But what?"

"The only ship that is embarking is a Bilgewatian one. There are no Piltovian or Freljordian ones left." It managed to wound him. He had a way out, but no way home. Fate brought him his just deserts. He composed himself quickly, seeing no reason to mope.

"Then we go on that one."

"…Are you sure? It leads me closer to home, but you further from it."

"I chose this." He said, his forced smile easily betraying the sorrow behind it.

"…That's _really_ not funny." Irelia's smile was gloomy as well.

"Well, it takes a while to get used to my sense of humor… Come on, Irelia. We don't have much time. Do you see a way to the ship?"

"Beneath the water. There are a few unwatched boats we can use to give us some air until we get to the anchor. We can climb up and sneak aboard. The opening is wide just enough to get you through without your armor… so you're gonna have to ditch it." She planned out their escape.

"Pity. I was starting to like it."

"Black looks terrible on you, to be honest." They both snickered, her attempt at levity soothing them enough to regain their focus.

"I have a plan, which involves stealing one of those boats, precise timing and long-held breaths." Irelia spoke, the glint of inspiration in her eyes. Garen just nodded, not having much to offer at this point. She scouted out the patrol routes of the guards, seeing every unwatched opening.

"All right. I'll tell you when. You ready?" She prepared herself.

"After you, my friend."

* * *

"Damn it! DAMN IT! Not again…" Draven was running ahead of the pursuing party.

"Slow down, Draven. The docks are the only place they can go to. We still have time." Tamara felt like a mother chasing after her petulant, hyperactive child. They and their squad reached the docks, which were on high alert, searching supplies, crates, dockhouses, Noxian war galleys and questioning the bystanders and merchants. Noxus was a large empire, which only made the task more difficult; there were people all over the empire gathering to the only open trade hub in Noxus Prime and all of them weren't helpful, though not of their own making. Nobody had spotted the escapees or any suspicious behavior with all the commotion in the harbor.

"Fan out. Assist with the searches. They can't be far off." Tamara ordered her soldiers.

"Tam, what's the next ship that's going to leave the harbor?" Draven asked.

"A merchant vessel from Bilgewater. They're set to depart in five minutes. You think they'll be on it?"

"If they aren't already… There it is. Let's go." He spotted the ship, a large and heavily armed palm-carved vessel sporting tri-sails and a mermaid bow. Its crew was already hard at work loading up their last supplies and getting ready to depart. Draven strode over up the brow and onto the deck, searching for the captain. He spotted her, a chestnut-haired woman with a blue captain overcoat, albatross-feathered dark green tricorne and a massive cutlass at her hip strap.

'S'cuse me, gent, but we're departing soon. What's yer business here?" One of the crew members, a large bald fellow with a scar across his stomach, a black seadog beard and a wonky right eye approached him.

"Name's Draven, but in Noxus and beyond I'm known also as the Executioner. Scratch that, the Glorious Executioner." Draven flipped his back, not that it needed flipping, and bowed flamboyantly.

"Huh… Oh, right! The twirly axe fella. I've heard o' ye. Yer far from the Arena, aren't ya?" The man recognized him. Draven smiled; at least introductions went smoothly.

"Yeah. Business is business, though. What're you gonna do, right? Speaking of business…" He pulled out a poster of Irelia and Garen's faces.

"We're looking for these two. If you can talk to your captain or let me explain myself to her…" Draven asked, the man stopping him right there.

"Say no more. I'll take ye to 'er. I'm sure we can make time for a quick search o' the ship if the cap'n wills it."

"My man! Thank you kindly." Draven followed the man up to the deck.

"Cap'n Opal. The Axe Twirler we've heard so much about is here on official business." The man introduced him. The captain turned around, revealing her smooth, pale and freckled face, her brown eyes measuring Draven.

"Welcome aboard, Glorious Executioner. Or should I just call you Draven?"

"Baby, you can call me anything you want…" Draven whispered, taken in by her beauty.

"Hmmm? Excuse me?"

"Oh! What I said was just Draven is fine though. That's exactly what I said… Anyways, I'm sure you've noticed we're kinda in a mess here."

"Aye, all the commotion. We've noticed, Draven. What's it to us, though?"

"I need your permission to search the ship, captain Opal. We're searching for these two." He showed her the posters, the captain studying them carefully.

"You think they stowed away on my ship?"

"It's a possibility we can't ignore, captain."

"All right, then. Kole, have the crew search the ship, top to bottom." Opal ordered her crew member, who began barking out the orders to the others. Draven himself joined the search, careful not to get himself caught in anything the escapees might have prepared. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, they reconvened on the deck.

"Well, that was a bust… Where could they be…?" Draven was stumped. Have they found some other way to escape? All other exits were either watched or blocked.

"Draven, don't mean to rush you, but we're on a schedule here. Things are hectic back home, too. That new girl that took over after Gangplank bit the bullet wants things running as smooth as possible." Opal urged him. Draven nodded, but turned after she spoke that one detail.

"Gangplank's dead? Huh… didn't think that was possible, after what the old bastard's been through and what he's done." Draven sounded genuinely surprised to hear the Saltwater Scourge was at the bottom of the sea now.

"Well, explosions do have a way of killing people. If that's all…"

"Yeah, that's all. Thanks for your time. See you, captain Opal. Oh, and if you're ever on shore leave here, do stop by the Arena. Just tell 'em Draven sent you." Draven winked at the captain and waved as he ran down the brow. Opal smiled.

'Well, he's not half-bad looking…' She mused to herself.

"Serpent fer ye thoughts, cap'n?" Kole snapped her out of it.

"Just thinking of home, Kole. Speaking of which…" She took the rudder and turned to the crew.

"All right, you sea mutts! Loose the sails! Hoist the anchor! Cast off!" She bellowed, the crewmen scampering about carrying out her orders.

Draven watched as the ship sailed off. He was baffled as to the whereabouts of the prisoners. Tamara gripped his shoulder; she wasn't sure how to soothe him, given that she's never done it before.

"We'll keep looking, Draven. We'll find them."

"I know, I just…"

"Yeah…" She looked out to the leaving ship, its white sails marked with the Coiling Serpent.

"I remember the last time I sailed. It was a pleasant experience being chained and locked up in a Shuriman brig." She recounted her trip back from Piltover. She missed the noise and the tech, but home was irreplaceable.

"You still miss… uhm, what was her name…"

"Noami. Well, she was different from the rest, I'll give her that… I don't know, though. If we weren't on different sides, maybe…"

"Tam, it was a 'yes-or-no' question." He smirked. She let her guard down and he took full advantage of it. She had only herself to blame. He wouldn't say anything to people that he didn't mean, though. It was one of his few good qualities.

"Yes, then." She breathed in; it was a tiresome, sweaty, painful, startling and _really_ difficult day. She needed a break, one that didn't involve a blow to the back of her head. She kicked herself for being too easily fooled by the prisoners. Then again, the situation appeared out of nowhere, no thanks to the Ionian blade witch. She understood why Swain had to make the execution public, but for it to turn into such a disaster… Noxus would never truly recover. She turned back to the ship, it now having fully cleared the harbor, its heavy anchor being raised up…

"Draven!" She spotted two figures hanging on the anchor, waiting until it was fully raised and then slithering inside the opening. Draven spotted them as well, his fist clenched.

"Artillery! Prepare the long nines!" Draven yelled out at the tower cannon crews.

"BELAY THAT!" Tamara yelled out too. Draven turned her to him a bit forcefully.

"What are you doing, Tam?!"

"What are _you_ doing?! Draven, that's a merchant vessel from an island nation of pirates who just got rid of the most troublesome political opposition to Noxus and are now trying to fix things with the surrounding nations. That includes us, you numbskull! We can't even stop the ship. The only reason the captain even allowed you to search it was because of good will."

"But they're on it this time! If we just signal the-"

"They're on a tight schedule for a reason. There are weeks of open sea between here and the Blue Flame Isles. There are storms and sea monsters to navigate. Draven, if you compromise that ship in any way, Bilgewater is gonna take it as a sign of mistrust. Do _not_ ruin that." Tamara reasoned as best she could with him. Draven kept looking at the leaving vessel, which was unaware that two of the most dangerous and powerful enemies of Noxus were stowing away on it.

"Damn it… Not again… We let them slip by!" He slammed a fist into a crate, puncturing it and spilling the fruit in it, alarming the nearby merchants who weren't already alarmed by their argument. Tamara apologized and promised recompense to them, returning to a fuming Draven.

"We lost, Draven." She said the bitter words. More were on her lips but she dared not let them out. Draven did it for her, though.

"No, Tam. Noxus lost."

* * *

Irelia and Garen slipped through the anchor opening, shaking off the saltwater. Irelia squeezed her hair dry and let her mind free the grip on her crest, putting it aside and breathing in. Garen put the stolen black broadsword against a crate. They looked at each other.

Disbelief… Reality… Happiness… Freedom.

"We did it… We did it!" She almost screamed out, but kept her voice low even when overwhelmed by joy.

"Goodbye, Noxus. I will _not_ miss you." Garen spoke his farewells. Irelia's smile lingered for little, slowly turning solemn the more she looked into his eyes.

"You're a long way from home, Garen. It's getting farther and farther now." She brought the mood down with a little realism. It was needed, but it also pained him deeply. What was happening back home right now? Were Jarvan and Lux alright? What about the rebellion? What happened to Sylas? The questions started plaguing him now that survival wasn't a priority on his mind.

"Where is this ship headed, again?" He asked her.

"The Blue Flame Isles. It's an archipelago southwest of my homeland, populated by island folk who revere sea monsters. We're apparently headed directly to Bilgewater, judging from the crates." Irelia pointed to insignia stamped on the crates all around them.

"Bilgewater is the capital city, I assume?"

"Yes. I haven't seen much of the land, given that I almost never mine. I don't know what awaits us there, Garen. I'm just as much in the dark about as you are." Irelia explained, worried about the trip. Garen sighed, memories flooding his mind trying to soothe it.

"Well, my sister always did tell me I needed to see more of the world… Maybe this is it." He said, looking at his companion, who had a puzzled look on her face.

"This is what?"

"The start of an adventure." He said, giddiness seasoning his voice that he would get to be an explorer like the one of the legendary pioneers of his homeland. Irelia hung her head, smiling lightly.

"You sound like Zelos… He always wanted to explore the world beyond too…" She spoke to herself.

"Hmmm? Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"It was nothing. So… got room for one more on this adventure of yours? No one should explore the world alone." Irelia's smile gave him light and warmth. He couldn't refuse even if he wanted to.

"I most certainly do. Onward to Bilgewater!" He proclaimed, eliciting a giggle from her. The ship sailed onwards, the sunset painting the horizon hues of orange and pink, the calm seas and winds marking the beginning of journeys home.


	3. Bilgewater - A Beginning

Bilgewater - Part I: A Beginning

Golden rays of light slowly began waking the city of Bilgewater, fishermen and fishmongers already up and about readying their trades. The light shone through the cracks of the cliffs, alleyways, wooden buildings, sails and wharfs, bathing the watery city in colorful hues reflected by the surface of the water. Ships sailed in and out, bringing in supplies of fruits, weapons, ammo, beasts and the occasional hextech piece. The Slaughter Fleets were quiet today as were the Killhouse and the Bloodharbor. It appeared Nagakabouros was slow to offer challenge to the people today, or maybe she was giving them a head start. None of them could truly tell why, a sermon to remind them that every day in Bilgewater should be lived like it was their last. And for many who weren't keeping their wits about them, their guard up and their coin safe, it usually was.

The Slashing Mermaid sailed in the docks, clear waters and calm waves softly welcoming her home. Opal was always at the rudder, steering her through anything; this ship was all that was left of her father, captain Garfield the Green, named after an incident with too much algae on his person and in his pockets. It was one time only, but that was all Bilgewatians needed to make a small legend out of you. It was all they could remember of him when he did not return from a great monster hunt, his ship and crew making it back thanks to him. Most of them mourned him, but all of them remained, either out of loyalty or debt. Respect was difficult to earn in a place that values only coin, but he taught his daughter well.

'Only take what you need, my little albatross. No need to look into your neighbor's treasure chest.' He always said that to her. She understood it well; be respectful and you will be respected. It certainly got her the attention of Miss Sarah Fortune. Now there was someone that wanted to change things; Gangplank was good… up to the point where he grew greedy and careless. It bit him hard. Everyone knew she was responsible for his downfall, but also for defending the city when the Harrowing came for them. The entire city recognized the name 'Fortune' after that night. The entire city celebrated it. She took part, but got back to work immediately the next day, not waiting for opportunities but making some herself. She was an inspiration to Opal and many other captains. And when she was approached by her First Mate, it was all she needed to make something out of her life in this place.

"She made good on 'er promise, that Fortune lass." Kole stepped up, stretching his arms and back. He smelled of rum, but that was a good thing. It helped him through the night and especially through the day. He was a Harrowing survivor, after all. Not many of them keep their minds straight after that ordeal.

"Ye ever seen the docks this clean, cap'n?" He asked.

"I've never seen anything this clean in Bilgewater except the Bearded Lady's Temple. Bilgewater's found its stroke of fortune." Her father had a nasty habit of making incessant puns with people's names and it infected her. She withheld some of it, especially in Noxus but back home, she set it completely loose. It annoyed nearly everyone, but they learned to love it or live with it. Maybe that would be her small legend one day.

'Punny Honey Opal, the most annoying legend of the Isles. Yeah… that's what I'm gonna die with.' She twirled a Golden Kraken, a sacred coin to any sailor of Bilgewater. Saying a silent prayer to the Mother Serpent, she tossed it in the sea.

"Here's t' us, then. May we get what we want, may we get what we need and may we ne'er get what we deserve." Kole spoke to seas. The Slashing Mermaid docked, lines cast and tied and brow extended. Dockhands welcomed them home, but mostly their supplies. The harbor was never truly asleep, but Bilgewatians were human… well, most of them, anyway. They still needed to shake off the drunkenness and drowsiness from each night and make sure their coin purses and limbs were still were they belonged. The crew began offloading the supplies, fruits, serrated pig iron sabers, Shuriman linens, ironwood and fish that they caught along the way. Opal looked at the shadows of the cliffs; they were right on schedule. Her confirmation came when she spotted a lone black-haired man heading towards her ship, maneuvering through the crowds carefully as to not interrupt the busy workers. To this day, she was astounded as to how polite someone could be for so long in this city. He ascended up the brow and the deck, giving a smile and wave.

"Right on time, as always. Sarah made the right call with you, but then again she has a nose for these things." The First Mate of the Syren known as Rafen greeted his business partner or rather, his captain's business partner. Opal smiled and waved in return.

"I see you've had a hell of a night, judging by that bruised cheek and torn sleeve. Been… Rafen up the gangs, eh?" She couldn't stop herself. Rafen sighed, pleading a look towards Kole.

"The lassie's making progress, Raf. I swear it on the Bearded Lady's tentacles." Kole responded without even looking at him.

"Doesn't sound like it, honestly…" Rafen was made a victim of Opal's puns more often than most. He kept it to himself and her crew, though. If Sarah caught wind of it, it would only escalate into a storm he couldn't weather.

"Oh, sure. Two drunkards picking on someone who is a junkie for wordplay… Very mature, you two." Opal teased.

"Eh, I gotta have _something_ after… whatever that was. But back to business. Have all the supplies been accounted for?" Rafen asked, taking a glance at the crates.

"Everything's here. Honeyfruits, Urzerian salts, a few bits of Demacian ironwood, pig iron from Noxus, a few trinkets and carbines from Piltover, fume breathers from Zaun and oils from Shurima. Took us a few months, but it's all here, just like I promised. My luck held out this time since most of the new contacts were at least affable, if not polite." Opal reported as they headed down the brow, grabbing a bottle of ale for herself. Rum never agreed with her, but a woman's gotta have some type of poison.

"Here's hoping it lasts. Bilgewater has only profited from pillage and looting until now. Sarah's decision didn't set well with a lotta folks in this town. Hell, I'm surprised they haven't stormed the mansion, shooting and stabbing everyone and everything." Rafen voiced his concerns. Bilgewater's trades were one of a kind since the port nation was free of the notions of law and constraint, allowing free settlers, lucrative merchants and violent mercenaries to prosper without control. Miss Fortune's coup, however, brought many of them to heel, establishing a solid trade that relied on their own offers; sea monster hunting, trading their valuable and useful body parts and offering their mercenary skills to the highest bidder instead of making a living off of random pirating. Many of the citizens, especially the newcomers and the quiet, resentful dockmasters and captains under Gangplank's employ agreed, glad to have some sort of direction with their trade. The traditionalists, however, were more resistant to the change. Gangs were still at large, new ones forming under old banners stitched together from the former ones. This was life in Bilgewater; the old and unlucky gets replaced by the new and fortunate. One had to give credit to the gangs, though; they fought on, despite not having anything to fight for. Miss Fortune called it utter pointlessness, but Rafen knew people in this city never needed a reason. They just needed a price, place of meeting and a target. 'Who, how and why' were meaningless questions in Bilgewater.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Raf. The day's young." Kole jabbed him as he passed by, offering a sly smile to the young First Mate.

'Not even on land and his humor is as dry as Shurima…' Rafen sighed, thought kept to himself.

"Noxus was in a bit of commotion, though. Almost kept us off schedule."

"Oh? What about?" Rafen grew curious.

"Right at their execution, two prisoners escaped. The Executioner wouldn't tell us more, but he asked to search our ship. Can you believe it? Those two must have been quite something… I mean, to escape from _Noxus_ of all places…" Opal marveled. It took her three whole weeks to process the story, still unable to tell whether she believed it herself or not.

"Eh, they must 'ave been caught. No way someone on death row makes it outta that place alive. Their escape is probably just made up." Kole chimed in, offloading the last of his crates.

"I can assure you it is not, my good man." A voice came from the deck. Within the second, the entire crew of the Mermaid pulled out their weapons, aiming them at the two sudden appearances. Rafen stood there with a look of worry and bafflement while Opal aimed her blunderbuss at the man's head, dread and realization slowly creeping in as she studied them.

"Their faces… Cap'n, it's them! The prisoners!" Kole recognized them from the posters, voicing what she was thinking. The crewmen carrying pistols cocked the flints, ready to fire.

"Why am I going along with this again?" Irelia whispered to the fool beside her, her crest itching to split apart and defend her. She kept it under control, but her unease made it difficult.

"Because all other options were discussed and we agreed this was the best one, remember?" Garen whispered back. He looked at Rafen and Opal.

"We mean no one here any harm nor do we seek a fight. I must warn you, though, that if you wish to fight us, you will find out why even the mighty Noxus couldn't capture us." Garen calmly warned them, using their tales to his advantage. The crew still kept their weapons on them, but their eyes and hands began to falter. Opal's mind was racing; they checked the ship, so how the hell did they get aboard without anyone noticing?

While the crew and captain were on edge and the two prisoners, now free souls, were awaiting their reaction, Rafen was studying the situation. If these two escaped from the strongest empire on the face of Runeterra, then they have more than earned their freedom. They chose to come to Bilgewater, a city of new beginnings and promises but also a place that is not kind on the unwary or the foolish. They kept calm and collected, however, waiting for them to make the first move and if they were clever enough to outwit Noxus, they were clever enough to survive here.

"I think we all got off on the wrong foot, here. Let's start with introductions, shall we? My name is Rafen. I'm the supervisor for this part of the docks and First Mate to the captain of the Syren. Who are you two?" He bowed lightly, slowly beginning to diffuse the powder keg of a situation this morning turned into.

"My name is Garen and I hail from Demacia."

"And I am Irelia, child of Ionia." The odd pair introduced themselves. The crew murmured amongst each other; a Demacian and an Ionian together? Bilgewater had seen many strange sights but this was a first.

"Well, aren't you two an unlikely pair… What crimes were you guilty off to warrant a public execution in Noxus?" Rafen followed his curiosity.

"Well, we… uhm… sort of…" Garen began.

"Killed hundreds of them and didn't submit to their rule." Irelia finished.

"I wouldn't have put it that bluntly… but yes. That's basically it." Garen confirmed. Rafen approached them, stopping at the brow's edge right before the pair. The Demacian was big, chiseled and had a jawline worthy of a god. The Ionian entranced him, her figure more of a dancer than of a warrior and her face more beautiful than a mermaid's. Their expressions were hard but patient and their eyes had already measured him. The Demacian wasn't bluffing when he threatened them.

"That's only the beginning of your story, I'm sure. But that's all for later. Right now, you two are stowaways and if I'm not mistaken, below deck there is at least half an empty crate of food and another one with less water than there should be." Their eyes betrayed the answer.

"We had to eat and drink something, First Mate. We apologize, for what it's worth." Garen spoke. Rafen and the rest of the crew looked at each other and then cackled.

"Let me tell you right off the start, Garen of Demacia. It's worth less than wharf rat shit." He explained, slowly making them realize their own predicament.

"While I do appreciate you two giving yourselves up and respect your ability to survive, I can't let you go without getting some form of compensation." Rafen laid it out for them. Coin was the only true language in Bilgewater and he already knew what their answer was going to be.

"We don't have anything on us to pay you back." Irelia admitted. She noticed Rafen, the captain and some of the crew eyeing her crest.

"It's not for sale." She needed to make it very clear.

"You sure? It looks pretty valuable and in Bilge-" Opal started, but Irelia cut her off.

"It's **not** for sale." Her look made it quite clear that arguing would lead to trouble for them all.

"Easy, lass. We get the point. Since your weapons are out of the question, the Demacian's shirt, pants and shoes dirty and… whatever the hell _you're_ wearing also dirty…" She pointed to the sleek Ionian bodysuit Irelia wore, making her scowl.

"…You two are in a tight spot. Lucky for you I have a proposition as to how you can repay us." Rafen chimed in again. The pair did not like his merry tone and it showed on their faces.

"Whoa, now. I don't mean any ill by my words. I just meant that I have a few job offerings for you two." Rafen summarized his intentions. The crew slowly lowered their weapons after hearing that, Opal holstering her blunderbuss as well.

"You sure about this, Rafen? What if they say no?" She asked.

"We came to these Isles with nothing but ourselves. We have nothing to give and nothing to lose. Might as well see what the offers are, right?" Irelia summarized her and Garen's positions. Rafen looked to Opal, who nodded.

"Well, then, gent and lady, you have yourselves an accord. Follow me. The rest of you lot, back to work!" He walked down the brow and past the harbor's gates, Garen and Irelia following him. He stopped and beckoned them to him.

As they passed the gate, the sight of the cliffs and arches fully revealed itself to them, shanty upon shanty stacked in an orderly chaos, small palaces built on the mountaintops, people living out their lives drinking, trading, bartering, scamming, brawling and laughing. Boats passed through the canals, each carrying something different than the last; fish, mead, rum, sea monster parts, weapons, tools and palm wood. Urchins ran around through the streets, picking pockets of the unwary, scurrying away from the occasional mercenary or gang member and roughhousing amongst themselves in alleyways. Sun and sea flowed through streets, buildings and waterways like blood flowing through a human body. The entire city was almost like a beating heart of luck, coin and melting culture. And somehow, through all that noise and sight, it called to them. After seeing the wonder in their faces, Rafen couldn't resist taking the honor to be the first.

"Garen, Irelia… welcome to Bilgewater."

* * *

The wharf rats scampered about the harbor, gnawing at the remains of the sea monster carcasses. Rafen took his guests on a detour through MacKeegan's Killhouse, one of the more outfitted slaughter docks in Bilgewater. Garen observed the huge machines, all designed to carefully skin, dissect and mutilate all kinds of giant beasts. Massive vertical spike-rollers held even bigger serpent bodies coiled around them, dockhands and butchers skinning their scales, harvesting their glands and sawing their teeth. On another end, a naval slaughterhouse held a massive dragon shark carcass on its nets, its teeth being carefully pulled out and its fins sawed off with metal blades attached to mechanisms on the roof and sides of the slaughter bed. Its blood and guts dripped all over the floor and into the water, attracting lesser creatures to feed off it. Irelia eyed the beasts, feeling a strange sense of pity for them. She didn't know whether they were naturally aggressive or posed a threat to Bilgewater, however, and reserved her judgment on the matter. It was her first time in the Blue Flame Isles and her first time seeing their people's way of life. From her first impressions she gathered the most important bits, though. They valued coin and saw profit in almost anything. The question she had on her mind was would they know when to stop if it came down to it? The rotting carcasses, bleached bones, festering guts and sprawled skin surrounding the docks and clouding them in stench offered a bleak answer to that question.

"Mmmm… got a whiff of that, you two? That's our slaughter docks. Here, our Slaughter Fleets bring in the sea monsters they've caught, harvesting their organs to trade with the surrounding cities and nations. That's our primary trade, anyways." Rafen introduced them to one of Bilgewater's sources of economy.

"What's the other trade?" Garen asked.

"Mercenary work. Bilgewater is a haven for criminals and outlaws such as yourselves, yes, but that's what the bounty board helps thin out. It's the only sort of law we have here. In recent days, however, that thing's not seen much use thanks to our esteemed captain Sarah Fortune. Therefore, the next best thing is to hire ourselves out to whoever bids the highest for our services. Killers need to make a living too, eh?" Rafen explained the more violent and ruthless way of life in Bilgewater like he was making small talk about the weather.

"We are not outlaws." Irelia, however, took offense to his supposition.

"We are only criminals in the eyes of a power-hungry empire who is bitter enemies with both our nations." Garen explained, though no less offended than she was.

"Apologies, m'lord and lady. I didn't mean to assume. That doesn't change the core fact of the matter, however." Rafen raised his hands in cheery apology.

"And what's that?" Irelia asked.

"In the eyes of Bilgewater, m'lady, you two are nobodies. No one knows you or anything about you. It's a double-edged sabre, though. Your credentials and identities are blank, but that just means you can make new ones for yourselves. Sounds enticing, doesn't it? 'Garen and Irelia, Demacian and Ionian together, the oddest pair to ever grace Bilgewater with their presence.' Makes for quite the story material, doesn't it?" Rafen was already hard at work making up legends for them. They looked at each other, eyebrows raised in amusement, and then laughed heartily.

"What? Something funny about my story editing skills!? I'll have you know, good sir and madam, that I am one of the most traveled Bilgewatians on the Blue Flame Isles… well, recently, anyway. I've seen plenty of things and know which stories are true and which are embellished and I have a tale or two to my name, as well. How's that for credentials, eh!?" Rafen acted offended, but couldn't help himself joining in on the laughing. The pair settled on three simple wishes.

"Right now, sir Rafen, we just want to earn our keep, settle our debts and find our ways home." Irelia summed it up, a comforting smile aimed towards her traveling companion.

"No matter how far it is." Garen finished, accepting her kindness with his own the same way.

"Heheh, 'sir'…. Eh, you two just need a taste. You'll see. Anyways, back to business. We're headed up there." Rafen pointed to a large circular structure on top of one of the large rock spires; it had a dome roof covered with waving flags depicting a serpent coiling around a blade in the middle of a heart.

"Sarah claimed that for herself after she took control of the city. She rarely spends much time there, though. Her busy schedule takes her throughout the streets almost every day. Today she is home, though. Gotta rest sometime, captain…" Rafen spoke, the reverence in his voice almost as prevalent as his admonishment.

"You don't approve of some of the things she does?" Irelia asked.

"That's not it. I'd follow her to the abyss, let me tell you. Bearded Lady knows she'd swim down there just to save this town. She loves it, but Bilgewater isn't the kind of place to just give you power and control. In fact, it punishes too much ambition rather than reward it." Rafen said, turning to Irelia without breaking stride.

"I just wish she'd come up for air more often and see what she's accomplished. No point if you're not enjoying it, right?" Rafen said, sadness gracing his voice.

"She sounds like an admirable and noble woman trying to fix things that cannot be fixed alone. I don't know if it's my place to say this, but you should be by her side, guarding her from all threats." Garen chimed in. Rafen smirked at the notion.

"Spoken like a true knight… She's one of the most dangerous individuals in Bilgewater, Garen. I would just be in the way when she lets loose. Trust me, if she can handle a city full of cheats, pervs, mercs and murderers, she can definitely handle herself." Rafen gave a brief introduction for his captain.

The trio ascended up the long walkways, getting a view of the entire bay at noon; all the harbors in the city were full and bustling now, ships coming and going. Trawlers were bringing in the catch of the day while a Slaughter Fleet embarked from one of the slaughter docks. Even from up here, they could hear the faint rowdiness and merriment coming from the taverns. It was seemingly sleepless. Irelia admired the flow of life while Garen pondered how such a large place has maintained itself for so long without any rules and not descend into chaos.

"Quite the sight, eh? I know your luck's already good, but trust me when I say that very few are privileged to get this kind of view." Rafen led them further up the stairs. They soon stood before the entrance, two brown doors etched with carvings of a strange, tentacle-bearded leviathan showing its teeth.

"That's the Bearded Lady. Don't mind her, though. She only goes after the living dead." Rafen introduced them to the Isles and Bilgewater's primary deity, pushing the doors open.

"Your captain believes in this 'Bearded Lady', I take it?" Garen asked.

"Sarah? Pfft! Hell no. The previous occupant did. He was a superstitious one and believed that marking his home with the Kraken would make him safe from all harm. Didn't stop a crowd of angry courtesans he was abusive towards from knocking the doors open and lynching him after Gangplank died, though." Rafen led them to the entrance, a hall with four branches and a large staircase, all bearing some mark or another to Nagakabouros.

"Gangplank? I've heard that name back home…" Irelia pondered, having heard tales of a ruthless pirate breaching Ionia's magical protective storms and fogs, raiding temples and villages.

"I'd be surprised if you didn't. He had a reputation even beyond the Isles. If his name doesn't ring a bell, perhaps 'The Saltwater Scourge' might?" Rafen led them up the staircase. Irelia's eyes lit up in recognition.

"The Scourge is Gangplank? Survivors say he shot and carved his way through the seas and shores of my homeland, plundering and murdering all he could find." Realization slowly turned to rage in her voice. Her crest abruptly split itself into blades, startling both Rafen and Garen, the former from surprise and the latter from experience.

"Where is this Gangplank? I'd like a word with him…" Her voice dropped dangerously low.

"E-Easy now, m'lady. H-He's dead. Sarah blew up his ship when she staged her coup. There's no way he survived the explosion. Trust me, he is gone." Rafen tried to calm her down, doing his best to mask the uncertainty of Gangplank's death in his voice. The blades lowering eased him somewhat, but Irelia kept them from reforming into the crest. Garen breathed out in relief that Irelia would not be turning the whole city into a blood-soaked ruin to find someone responsible for causing harm to her homeland, a little part of his mind shuddering at the thought of the unstoppable blade juggernaut she could become when provoked. That same part suddenly pondered if he looked the same to his enemies as well. He silenced it with haste lest it go somewhere undesirable.

"C-Can we, uhm, continue?" Rafen asked. Irelia composed herself, seeing the expressions on her companions' faces, a small blush of embarrassment creeping up on her cheeks.

"I apologize. I didn't mean to…" Irelia stammered.

"It's fine, m'lady. He had that effect on people. No need to feel ashamed." They reached the end of the hallway and another door, this one having voices behind it.

"Looks like the others are here. From the sound of it, Mylene, Thrice-Killed Lemmy, Gaston the Generous and Velvet Lilly. Good, then. You'll be getting all the introductions you need." Rafen pushed open the doors, revealing a spacey room with a large table in the middle, cupboards stacked with silverware, four mugs of ale and four people sitting on the table, a fifth with their back turned, facing the ocean outside the glass balcony door. The four turned to the door reaching for their weapons, but settled down when they saw their visitor.

"Rafen? What are you doing here so early? Did something happen at the docks? Is the cargo OK?" A man with a frilly wig, gold-seamed blue overcoat, three pocket watches and a stubble on his chin asked. At the mention of Rafen's name, the fifth person turned their head slightly, but their body remained with their back turned.

"Everything's fine, Gaston. Your cargo's safe." Rafen reported.

"So whatcha doin' here then, hun? Worried about something… or someone?" A woman wearing a purple low-cut dress, hair in a bun, fanning herself with a large, rose-themed hand fan and blue eyes peering at him asked teasingly.

"Can it, Velvet. And Gaston, remember when I said your cargo was safe? Well part of it is safe inside their stomachs." Rafen turned, revealing his companions. The others eyed them from head to toe, each with a different look.

"Wait… stowaways? Well, I'm guessing they had nothing on them to pay us back." Gaston played with one of his stopwatches around his fingers; a habit everyone aside from their newcomers knew gave away his scheming.

"Nothing except clothes, weapons and a huge Noxian bodycount." Rafen explained.

"What? They're escapees? From **Noxus**? _That_ Noxus?" Lemmy asked with incredulousness prevalent in his gruff voice. He wore strange bone plates on his back and shoulders. His dark green overcoat was decorated with all manner of strange trophies, including eyes, jaws, teeth, fins and even a tentacle. His bald head was tattooed with a shark jaw, but his wrinkled, scarred face coupled with his gutting look was undoubtedly scarier.

"Yep. That Noxus. They didn't cause trouble at the docks and turned themselves in, but seeing as how we need some of the money back…" Rafen began, but the fifth figure turned fully, revealing a freckled young woman with blood-red hair, a soft yet deadly look in her face and two massive hand cannons strapped to her captain's attire.

"You volunteered them. Well, at least you're making the right calls. Illaoi may have been right about you." The redhead spoke to Rafen.

"Sarah, please… I will never get that woman or her god, no matter how many times she preaches." Rafen grabbed two empty chairs and motioned the new 'applicants' to sit.

"I'm Sarah Fortune. I'm guessing my First Mate has already talked up a storm about me, so I'll skip to you two." The redhead introduced herself.

"I am Garen. She is Irelia." The two sat down while Garen introduced them both.

"So… Demacian and Ionian… I have to say, it's a strange sight, especially in Bilgewater." Sarah took off her tricorne, letting them get a better look at her face while doing the same with theirs.

"Not gonna ask what you did to piss off Noxus because honestly, I don't care. As far as I'm concerned, it's their fault for letting you escape and not mine or Bilgewater's problem to handle." Sarah laid it out that she didn't care much for Noxus as long as they upheld their end of the trade.

"But what happens to my ships and cargo _is_, so you two are on an… let's call it 'interview'." Sarah leaned with one hand on the table, studying the two.

"Garen, was it? You look strong and tough. Do you have any experiences fighting monsters?" Sarah asked right off the bat.

"Ever heard of cragbeasts? They grow about the size of a house, have huge tusks, thick furs and are incredibly territorial and savage. I have killed about seven of them, four with help and three single-handedly." Garen recounted his experiences with monsters.

"Oh, yeah… I think I've seen some of those tusks here, back while I was still shooting my way up this city. They're pretty big and if what you're saying is true, they come from even bigger beasts. Good so far, but we could use a little more than that. Sea monsters aren't like land ones. At least you've got the ground to your advantage. Out there, the sea is not only their home, but also their hunting ground." Sarah looked a bit unimpressed. Garen decided to pull out his most daring feat yet.

"Does a dragon count?"

Lemmy almost spat his rum out. The others, aside from Irelia, looked at him in disbelief.

"You've… _killed_ a dragon? An actual… _dragon_?" Mylene, a woman with darker skin, serpent tattoos on her arms and a red corsair's garb decorated with Bilgewater's emblem on the back spoke first.

"Well, it took me three days to track it, three more to find its lair and at least an hour to bring it down, but yes. I've killed a dragon." Garen recounted the mission that he thought would be the end of him. He volunteered, but he sure wasn't thinking straight, only thinking of saving the villages or avenging the ones the dragon destroyed.

"How in hell's bowels did you do that?" Lemmy asked. Garen's eyes lit up, but he stopped him.

"Just the short version, lad…"

"His hide was too tough for my sword, but his eyes and insides weren't. I maneuvered him into chasing me at the top of his roost, a large mountain with giant rocky spikes at the peak. Once he was close enough, I chopped one off and pushed it down just as he was aiming his fire breath and open mouth at me. I gained a few scars and nasty burns that day, but Demacia was a little bit safer. Granted, he wasn't an elemental dragon, but he was _big_." Garen finished, withholding the part where he limped down the mountain, collapsing out of fatigue before being found by Jarvan and his expedition. He was called both a hero and a fool, having more than earned those titles that day. He turned to the others, even Irelia now looking surprised.

"Uh… yeah… I'd say that counts as qualified. Whaddaya say, Little Red?" Lemmy asked Sarah, using his nickname for her.

"Monster hunting it is… _if_ he accepts. What say you, Garen?"

"If it means keeping trade going, mouths fed and me getting home, then I accept." Garen made courteous bow, eliciting laughs from his employers.

"Yep. He's Demacian." Mylene chuckled.

"You gotta stop being a knight, boy. It's gonna get you robbed and killed here." Gaston reprimanded him. He and the others then turned to Irelia, who looked at Garen with her mouth open.

"Lassie? Whacha gaping at him for?" Velvet snapped her out of it. Irelia gave them all a look.

"Could we have a moment?" Irelia asked, grabbing her companion.

"Irelia, what are you-" He began, but she shushed him.

"We'll be right back." She took them away from their ears in a small corner.

"Are you out of your mind?!" She whispered but she might as well have yelled, given how everyone in the room heard it. They pretended they didn't except for Sarah, who smirked with her head down.

"What are you talking about? You saw their docks. Monster hunting is the way of life here. It could get us out of our debt and back home in no time, especially if you take it up too." Garen reasoned with her.

"No, _gold _is the way of life here and I don't know if I want to hunt those creatures… Besides, it's dangerous. Dragons are one thing, but these are sea monsters. You don't know how to fight them. You could be killed." She raised a valid point, but Garen countered with another one.

"It's either that or mercenary work. I don't know about you, but I don't take lives without a reason. Dragons are _likely_ more dangerous than sea monsters and I will probably be part of a Slaughter Fleet. I won't take them on alone. Trust me. I won't die." Garen stood his ground, speaking the last part with a smile on his face. It only made Irelia even more distrustful, but she was cornered.

"Very well. Just… try to stay alive and if things go bad-"

"I will and they won't… Probably." He kept smiling. It was starting to vex her.

"Be more serious about this, please." She spoke with a tone that reminded eerily of his mother's. There was something else that made it sound different Augatha's authoritative and firm voice, however. Empathy? Concern? He couldn't truly tell.

"I'll look after myself. That's a promise." Garen spoke, smile easing up but not disappearing.

"Good enough." Irelia accepted it, both returning to their seats.

"Sorry about that. My companion and I had a bit of a misunderstanding. In any case, my acceptance stands." Garen explained. The others murmured amongst themselves before turning to Irelia yet again.

"Very well. What about you, lassie? Any monster kills you want to share with us?" Lemmy asked.

"No. The way of my people involves harmony with the creatures of the land, not slaughtering them for profit. I have not killed any beasts that did not allow me to do so, not even the ones Noxus used to invade my home with. I don't think I'm fit for your… hunting work." Irelia described one of the ways of life of her homeland.

"Huh… you sure, m'lady? Those flying blades of yours look deadly." Rafen suggested.

"No means no. Besides, I'm sure there are other ways of repaying my debt." She crossed her arms in defense.

"Aye, there are. Suggestions, people?" Sarah asked.

"What about the taverns, Velvet? She could at least serve a few drinks." Gaston suggested.

"Absolutely not." Velvet shot it down.

"Why not? Look at her. She is very easy on the eyes and can handle herself if anyone gets too rowdy with her."

"For those two points exactly. She is _gorgeous_. No offense, Sarah, but she is prettier than you are. That kind of beauty will attract a lot of eyes and coin in one place and I don't think I need to tell any of you how _bad_ for business that is in this city. As for her self-defense, I doubt anyone will want to frequent a place a knife-happy witch serves drinks in." Velvet closed the doors on that option. Irelia wouldn't have taken it either, preferring not to sully herself by being a tavern wench. Lemmy's face lit up, however.

"Skinning." He said to no one in particular.

"What?"

"Velvie, everyone starts out at the docks, right? Those blades of hers can certainly help lessen the burden with some of the thicker monster hides. Hell, maybe she can cut a dragon shark's teeth with them. Whaddaya say, lassie? Your partner over there brings in the catch and you skin 'em clean. At the end of the day, both of you make some coin, for yourselves and for us." Lemmy summed up the business aspect of their stay in Bilgewater. Irelia hesitated; bodies deprived of their spirit should be left to the lands to take back what was rightfully theirs so that they could give even more. She would be committing a small sacrilege by taking from it… But this was another land, with different customs and ways of life. She had to adapt, not just for her own sake.

"Very well. I accept the proposal." She said, reluctance lingering in her voice. Lemmy made a small fist pump in success, while Velvet, Gaston and Mylene breathed out in relief. This day wasn't going to be as long as they thought.

"So long as I get a bath afterwards!" She added hastily. Sarah laughed at that one, while Lemmy scowled.

"Speaking of bathing, m'lady and lord… Whoowee…" Rafen fanned his nose with a hand. Irelia remembered what three weeks out on the ocean with only seawater serving as a bath smelled like. Garen curiously smelled his armpits.

"I don't mind. That's the scent of effort." He proclaimed proudly. Everyone else looked at each, a single breath caught between them all. It erupted abruptly from everyone in the form of laughter except from Irelia, who looked at him like he crawled out of a hole in the dirt.

"Yeah, an effort to be disgusting." Her wit was sharper than her blades.

"Well, with that attitude, I have my doubts about you lasting a full hour at the slaughter docks without wanting to throw yourself in the sea." He didn't know why, but Garen didn't want to be outdone by her in that department.

"OK, first of all, the sea at the docks is dirtier than the slaughterhouses. Second, I have dirtied myself before… and have found it quite likeable." She withheld the part that the mud she and many others covered themselves with back home was an enchanted skin-healing and treatment substance.

"And third… is that a bet?" She challenged him. Before he could accept, Sarah spoke up.

"All right, enough 'trouble in paradise' or whatever that was. You two can find rooms for yourselves in one of the taverns. Velvet can help you choose and get you settled in. You both start in two days. That's when the next Slaughter Fleet heads out. Lemmy will help you both with details about your jobs. Talk to Gaston if you need help with your money. Just don't listen to anything he says." Sarah explained, quipping at Gaston who scowled proudly.

"Rafen, you make sure they don't poke their noses where they shouldn't. Don't want them getting broken, do we?" She ordered her First Mate, who gave a small nod.

"Now, you two have somewhere else you need to be. As for the rest of you, back to work." She adjourned the meeting.

* * *

The sun was on its last afternoon course, slowly sailing into the sunset horizon docks. Despite the warm soothing orange hues and darkening blue east, the city didn't seem to slow down at all. It only got rowdier. The lower districts were filled with sailors and workers going in and out of the many taverns after a long day of work, eager to grab a pint, catch a look of their favorite wenches or maybe hear a story or two about opportunities to fame and wealth. The waters of life never truly stopped flowing in Bilgewater, making everyone thirsty for a bit more than they already had… with the exception of two outsiders being led into a tavern by its owner.

"Welcome to the Gurgling Gator, you two. She has been my pride and joy ever since my ma and da passed away, leaving me with the place. I lost it to a gang when they claimed it as their hideout once, but Sarah helped me get it back once she took over. Been making sure the place was run clean and properly since then." Velvet led them into her establishment, a large square building with many tables, chairs, windows, a central bar counter and copious amounts of noise and drinking.

"Huh… pardon my observation, but I half expected there to be more shattered windows, rum and broken glass on the floor, people stabbing and punching each other and everything burning." Garen expressed his views on the city.

"Handsome, if you arrived here half a year earlier, that would've been the scene." Velvet led them up the stairs with a laugh. They stopped at the two doors at the end of the hall.

"These rooms are yours. They aren't free, but they aren't expensive either so don't worry about paying me back… much. Bed, bathroom, desk and closet are all inside. Sarah left some fresh clothes for both of you to pick, on her. Get dressed and take the day off. Today's rounds are on the house for you two. That being said, don't drink too much or you're out, no questions asked. See you downstairs." Velvet gave them their keys and left to join the crowd. The duo shared a look before going in their respective rooms.

Garen was the first to finish bathing, putting on a white shirt, dark blue vest and pants and a yellow do-rag on his head. He stood in front of the full-sized mirror, eyeing himself carefully. Loosened sleeves, firm leather shoes, clean-shaven chin and one string untied on the collar of his shirt. A true dashing scallywag.

"Lux would never let me live it down…" He was grateful for the thousands of miles between him and his impish little sister for the moment. He grabbed his sword, holstering it on the makeshift belt across his shoulder and exited. He glanced at the door opposite of him, but moved on, deciding to give his companion as much privacy as she needed. Descending down the stairs, Garen eyed the tavern, now in full swing with merriment and drinking. Spotting a lone table in the corner, he moved through the rough waters of the crowd, careful not to disturb anyone lest he start trouble he didn't want. Reaching the table, he took a seat, laying his sword to rest. A shadow loomed over him almost instantly.

"What'll it be, handsome?" A young blonde barmaid greeted him with a smile, awaiting his order.

"Mug of ale. Topped." He decided to let loose, partly to taste what the city had to offer and partly not to stand out like the chaste knight that he was.

"Coming up, handsome." With a wink, the young lady turned towards the counter, skillfully dodging a few low-aimed hands. Garen watched the tavern's patrons; nine tenths of them were men, dockworkers, sailors and mercenaries. He didn't spot any suspicious-looking or shady characters among the crowd. Either the tavern was under protection from gangs or they were just smart enough not to try their hands for it again. Every patron and servant in here, however, was armed. Even the sweet young barmaid's skirt carefully concealed a sharp dagger, a detail he noticed when she made sure to dodge a little extra away from her right thigh.

'The whole city is ready for a fight. The question is whether it's a fight with something from outside… or itself?' The thought made him uneasy. Which side was he on? Or rather, which side found him? Sarah Fortune and those beneath her seemed fair, but they were also seeking profit just like everyone else here. If that wasn't the case, he'd be on the next ship out of Bilgewater and heading towards Freljord. Freljord… the only coast landings available to him were those of the Frostguard and the Winter's Claw Tribe. The former was a conclave of religious fanatics worshiping monstrosities while the latter was a savage warrior faction bent on conquering the land through force. Both were not exactly welcoming options. Piltover was on his mind, but the entire Noxian fleet would be looking for him and they would've certainly alerted Piltovian customs to his identity. His options were bleak, no matter how he looked at it. His attention was taken away from his thoughts when the patrons started cheering, whistling and raising mugs in the direction of the stairs.

Irelia was coming down to the tavern, dressed in long dark red pants, sleek brown boots and a dark blue short-sleeved corset shirt revealing her navel. The entire outfit put together melded with her form, revealing all her curves and smooth skin to every eye that was on her. It made her uncomfortable and miffed. This was the least revealing outfit in that infernal closet filled with low-cut dresses, suffocating corsets and ankle-biting shoes. She scanned the tavern, hoping to find who she didn't upstairs. Garen waved her over, in case she couldn't spot him through his new look. She waved back, hesitant to set foot on the floor with a sea of leers.

"Oi! Back to your mugs, you lot! She ain't here for you!" Velvet called out to the whole tavern, making almost all of them turn to their drinks and conversations, with a few snuck glances in Irelia's lower half. She made her way to Garen's table and sat opposite him, her expression filled with more blades than her crest. Although he wasn't the cause of them, Garen was their current target. He stared uncomfortably at her face, hoping the tension would clear.

"Your ale, handsome. What about you, milady?" His salvation came in the form of the barmaid, now waiting on Irelia.

"Same thing he ordered." She didn't break her gaze.

"Right away." She left with a smile, but a little quicker than she did before. The tension returned, slowly turning into a suffocating fume.

"You… look nice." He was never any good at timely and appropriately complimenting a lady.

"Shut it."

"OK." And that confirmed it. She softened up a bit, though, after seeing his effort to help something that he had no expertise or hand in. He made that very clear it's who he was back when they escaped Noxus.

"I'm sorry. I know you're trying and I'm not blaming you, but… These 'clothes' are not what I expected. And these were the most decent in there. It's like the women here have as much concept of dignity as the men, which is to say that of a toad." She let her frustrations out. A little smile came up to her mouth as she eyed him.

"What are _you_ dressed as, anyway?" She said, laughter slowly leaking out of her.

"A charming corsair, of course. I thought that was the closest thing to hero around these parts." He explained his choice of attire, which was a mix of boyhood tales from Demacia with local ones, or so he thought. A small breath was caught in Irelia's lungs, a breath he recognized. He knew there was only way to release it. Her genuine, relieved laugh sounded adorable to his ears and he suddenly found it extremely difficult to stay angry.

"Oh, sure… make fun of my boyhood dreams, miss dancy-pants. I'll bet the first thing you looked for in that closet was a dancing attire." Garen acted offended. Part of him slightly felt that way, but this was a night to relax and to get to know his traveling companion better.

"I'm sorry. I really am. And you are right. That was the first thing I looked for. There was one better than this one, but it revealed too much. It's important for my body that my clothes are flexible, breathe along with me and follow my every move. Oh, and I suppose protection is fine as well in the places that matter." Irelia stretched out, feeling the fabrics on her skin. It wasn't proper combat attire, but was flexible and light.

"Well, our weapons are the only protection we have for now. What I wouldn't give for some Rune Steel right now…" He looked at the black broadsword he 'appropriated' from Noxus. It was durable, sharp and heavy, but he still had to get used to the weight.

"Rune Steel?" Irelia looked curious.

"Yes. It's a lightweight, durable and anti-magical metal from my homeland. Well, not completely anti-magical, more like it can redirect, absorb, nullify and disrupt magical effects. Incredibly effective, as you can imagine and it's more than perfect for fighting mages." Garen proclaimed proudly. Irelia looked slightly taken aback, though.

"Your homeland… doesn't approve of magic?" She asked. In the three weeks they were stowing away, he never talked much about Demacia or its laws. They instead decided to pass the time by teaching each other's languages and dialects, something both found fun, especially Irelia. He almost forgot she was a mage, a lawbreaker in Demacia's eyes. They were far from Demacia and its laws, however, which opened up more opportunities for honesty in his eyes.

"Yes. Our small kingdom was founded by refugees from the Rune Wars. Have you heard of those events?"

"I have. To think that people used magic in such horrifying ways… I didn't believe it at first. Part of me still doesn't." She admitted. Her voice betrayed part of her thoughts about the subject; she wouldn't approve of what he would say next.

"Magic is outlawed in our kingdom. I didn't quite understand why until I saw many of my fellows fall prey to it, including one of my uncles. I swore to myself that day to never let anyone I care about be harmed by any form of sorcery. To that extent, I enforce the laws whenever I find them broken… by any means necessary." Garen laid everything out. It was more than just his job. It was his choice. He made sure Irelia recognized it and given the way she looked at him, it got through.

"So, every mage that harms people is imprisoned? Just like that?" Irelia asked, unsure of what to think of next.

"No. Every mage is given a choice; prison or exile." He hoped it was simple enough for her.

"Wait… they don't have to hurt anyone? Their only crime is being born with magic?" She was slowly getting appalled.

"Yes. Demacia cannot risk any innocents being hurt by sorcery."

"So you lock up or kick out all those who use it?" Irelia's voice was rising higher and higher. Garen began regretting making it sound simple.

"Yes, but you must understand. Magic in the western parts of Runeterra has long been used as a means to harm. Even those with sorcerous powers that can help others very often only help themselves. Using something to commit evil will eventually mark it as such itself and magic is a… flexible tool." He recounted his experiences with her, trying to make her understand as best he could. The use of magic has long been regarded as a curse in his homeland, even by the users sanctioned by the higher ups to track it. His thoughts went back to that day in Fossbarrow, particularly the ride home with Lux. Demacia didn't want understanding, nor did it want a reason. It just wanted to be left alone in the peace it worked so hard on. Magic is **not** a force of peace. That much he understood. He wondered if the rebel mages realized the same thing… and if they cared at all.

Moving away from his thoughts, Garen turned to his companion, now looking at him in the eyes. There were many emotions emanating from them, spreading out and reaching towards his. The subject mixed them into a volatile concoction, it seemed, as he couldn't identify each one clearly. He saw judgment, mistrust, sadness, pity, anger and a tinge of fear. Was this how outsiders viewed them? Was this what Demacia's laws and way of life were obscuring for him? Back home, he would've argued more in favor of it. Now he wasn't so sure.

'Not all magic is evil… was that spur of the moment? Why did I utter those words?' His mind reminisced about latest fight with Katarina. He quickly put it away lest he get distracted by it and forget the person in front of him.

"Your ale, milady." The young barmaid happily eased the tension for the moment, but once she skipped away, it slowly condensed yet again. Irelia took a sip, savoring the taste. Half a minute passed, feeling like an eternity between the two.

"Do you think I'm evil?" Irelia asked. It pierced both the tension and his soul sharper than any of her blades.

"I'm certain your sense of justice is strong." Why? Why did he avoid it? Why did he turn a blind eye to it?

Because it was just like the issue with Lux, or rather he felt like it was.

"Garen, look at me." Unlike Luxanna, Irelia wouldn't be taken in by his dodging attempts.

"Do you think I am evil?" This would be the second and last time she asked. He had to answer carefully. Even silence was a form of answering. Something about this place made him feel more honest… or maybe it was Demacia's suffocating ideals and laws that constricted his beliefs and words.

No. No more dodging. He would tell her his feelings, even if they weren't what she hoped to hear.

"Irelia, back in Noxus I saw you cut down a hail of arrows like paper with one single blade shard controlled with your mind. I was surprised, but not afraid. When next I saw you wielding your weapon and at full power, however, you carved a battalion of Noxian soldiers, armed and armored to the teeth like they were pastry in the span of _four_ seconds. Did you even feel time pass during that moment? Did you feel the weight of their armor on your blades… the weight of their flesh?" Garen asked, unfettered by belief and fear, both of them now flowing through his words and in her ears, both surprising and slightly angering her.

"They would've killed us. Don't you get it? They don't care about other people, nations and beliefs. They only care about Noxus because that's what they're taught to do… what they're bound to do. It was their choice to submit to that ideology. They don't respect others, Garen. They only see weapons and means to victory. But I'm sure you don't need that lesson. After all, when I saw you, you were standing surrounded by their corpses, the battalion I carved through too afraid to come near you. You were just as dangerous as I was at that moment. The only difference between you and me is that you only have one big blade you swing with your hands, whereas I have smaller ones I swing with my mind." Her conviction would not be deterred. Garen, however, realized she missed the point.

"Fair point, Irelia. One I agree with, to be sure. But this leads us to another one." He pointed to his blade.

"I can put my sword away. I can break it, melt it down and turn it into something other than a tool for killing. Can you do the same with your crest? Can you do the same with your magic?"

Irelia felt time slowing down, her mind rewinding to all those times she used her dances to cheer people up… which was a lifetime ago. The people of Navori weren't asking for dances anymore. They asked either for her council, clamored for her banishment or demanded her head on a spike. The Brotherhood of Navori formed not because of her dances of joy and peace, but because of her blades of fury and defiance. Garen may have been a bit misguided and too lawful, but when he made a point, he made a point. Magic was a flexible tool. Dancing was all about flexibility.

And she rarely danced anymore.

"I want to… Gods, I really want to…" The desperation was evident in her voice. Garen grew a bit more surprised and curious.

"What do you mean?"

"Ionia's ways have always been those of harmony with magic and the land. In fact, there's rarely any difference between the two. The First Lands and magic have always been in balance with one another, always preserving life while allowing it to flourish. Magic is existence in Ionia and it is present in every form, whether it is building, growing, dancing, fighting… To us, magic is Ionia's soul." Irelia spoke of her home, her face displaying many emotions with happiness prevalent above all. It faded when she looked down in her drink.

"But… Garen, I don't know where my power comes from or why it courses through me. I just feel it, move with its rhythm and listen to its music. It feels… natural to me. I have only ever used it to defend my homeland from all threats… both external and internal." She thought of the many members of the Brotherhood she had to kill. None of them deserved to die for her or because of her. She never asked anyone to do so nor would she.

"Lately, however, that's all I have been doing. Since the day I turned the tide at the Placidium, our most holy place, I have been the leader they needed. The war is over… but I have my doubts any of us have truly come back from it. I know I lost a part of me during that period." She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Releasing it, she looked in his eyes, her own filled with longing.

"I want to be normal, Garen. I want to dance again. Not just for myself, but for my home and my people… at least for those who would watch." She confessed her simplest wish to him, unsure whether or not he would understand.

"What are you saying? You… weren't always a warrior? That crest of yours-"

"-used to be just that. A simple crest belonging to the Xan family, of which I am the last. It shattered on the day I lost them, letting me avenge them. It is the only thing I have left of them, besides childhood memories. It was pure and clean… but no longer. They would weep at its sight now… especially O-ma." She finished, her eyes glistening in the candlelight, dangerously close to watering. She held back, forcing it down just as she did with everyone else and looked her companion in the eyes once more.

"I want to stop fighting. But what was shattered cannot be whole again, Garen. It would not be the same anymore. It would not be the thing I once loved. I don't know how to put down this crest, now divided into many shards, nor do I know how to mend it. If I did, I would do it in an instant." She finished, letting out a breath of quiet, remorseful content.

Garen gazed quietly at his drink, taking it all in. He still had doubts about magic itself, but there were none for Irelia. She was not a blade-witch, nor was she a remorseless murderer. She was just a woman, forced to fight for her home and for its people. He always embraced that role with pride, giving his all and risking everything to protect Demacia and her people, to be their symbol of strength, unity and courage. Irelia did all that without ever having prepared herself and losing her family on top of it. She endured all of and was still enduring it for those who needed her. She was better than him… and it made him strangely happy, knowing there was someone like him on this harsh world, wanting to give it the hope it needed.

After all, that's why he fought. That's why she fought as well.

"No." He said, smile forming on his face once more.

"'No' what?" She asked, confused.

"I do not think you're evil." He downed his drink, signaling the barmaid for another. He noticed her face, full of surprise once more.

"What? Did you think I was some simpleton who considers laws and rules the only way of life?"

"…Kinda, yeah."

"Wow, thanks. I never realized you were considerate of my stance." His sarcastic side rarely reared its head, but when it did it accelerated with frightening speed.

"Well, sorry I'm a mage who saved your neck from Noxus, I guess." She would not be outdone.

"Thank you, lady Xan. I am forever in your debt." He concluded as the barmaid brought him his second serving. Irelia just finished hers, raising the empty mug for another as well. They looked at each other for a few seconds, faces straight for the duration. Garen was the first to give in, smirking slightly. Irelia followed soon after, both slowly giggling then laughing freely.

"Not gonna lie, I almost thought you were serious." Irelia confessed yet another thought to him. She was feeling more and more relaxed around him, knowing that despite his beliefs, he still respected and acknowledged others and theirs.

"Hey, I can be funny when I want. I just think people should earn my funny side. So… consider yourself honored." He tried his best to seem like a self-entitled noble, nose raised, eyes closed and hand waving.

"Ok, tone it down, Mr. Hero. That leer is not fit for a 'charming corsair'."

"Fear not, milady. Despite our differences, I shall try my utmost to catch you should you fall or offer my hand when you are down… provided you don't stab me, of course."

"Noted." Eyebrow and mouth corners raised in amusement, Irelia picked up her freshly filled mug.

"To our homes and loved ones." She raised it.

"May they never truly leave our hearts." He cheered. The night was in full swing now, people drinking, singing, dancing and talking by the dozen. Irelia saw an empty floor place, a mischievous thought sliding down from her mind and into her eyes. Garen noticed it, becoming both curious and uneasy.

"I never asked you, Mr. Corsair. Do you dance?" That question was all that was needed to send the stout, proud and confident hero of Demacia in fretfulness and panic.

"Well… I-I mean, I have, uhm… I h-have ta-taken lessons, but I never- Can you not suggest we go dancing, please?" It was entertaining watching him stumble over his words, but Irelia had no intention of dancing, at least not with this attire and in front of a crowd who would watch her body rather than her movements.

"Don't worry. We're not going to dance. Not in this crowd, at least. I was just asking. Surely you must have some hobbies or something to keep you busy." Irelia kept on going, growing more curious as to who was behind the soldier known as Garen.

"Well, aside from me leading Demacia's most elite unit, the Dauntless Vanguard, I am the King's personal protector. It runs in my family, as my father was the King's previous protector whereas my aunt led the Vanguard before me. My sister, Luxanna, has also been chosen as a protector of the Prince. I have never been one to shirk my duties, but I do occasionally request some time to ride across the countryside or spend time helping the common folk. I… find peace in it, you know? Seeing them lead normal and serene lives thanks to those protecting them is all the reward I truly need. Maybe one day, I too will find out what that's like but until then, I will help those that need it more than me." He confessed. A soldier's life suited him for now, but even he knew that every soldier must eventually put their weapon down, take their armor off, hang up their boots and lead the calm, quiet life they were fighting for. Honoring the fallen was important, but _how_ one honored them was what truly counted.

"That sounds nice… I wish I could do that, honestly." Irelia took another sip. Given their current predicament, Garen kicked himself for not being more tactful.

"My apologies. Maybe we should change the subject…"

"No! No, I mean… I don't mind. I just…"

"Miss being normal? I am familiar with the feeling." Garen remembered the last time he was normal, which was at his eleventh birthday, when he promised himself he would join the Vanguard and safeguard Demacia from all threats. Now, so far from home, he wasn't sure he would safeguard his own coin purse.

"Well… we're normal now, right?" He didn't know what prompted him to say that. The small light in her eyes and curved corners of her mouth made him glad he did.

"I suppose… A knight from a kingdom that rejects magic and a dancer from a land which embraces it talking with each other, sharing beliefs and wishes… Is that normal, Garen?" She asked, earnest and curious. Her summing it up finally made him realize why the Bilgewatians thought it strange.

For some reason, he didn't care about kingdoms, nations and their decrees at the moment.

"Probably not, but right now, in this lawless place filled with opportunists, I'm just happy to have a companion with whom I see eye to eye on most things, no matter who they are or where they are from." Garen downed his drink, but didn't order another.

"Thank you, Irelia. I know I might not be the best companion to travel with, given my stances compared to yours, but I'm glad to have met you." No more politics, beliefs and laws, only two unlikely friends.

"Yeah, you can be hardheaded, both literally and figuratively. But I guess that's what makes it worthwhile to get through all the pomp, lawfulness and stoicism and see the real you. If they aren't the right ones, they only hold us back." Those words hit him; Demacian laws weren't perfect and he knew it, but to hear someone from outside say they were one of the causes that made people turn to darkness and corruption awoke something inside him that slumbered since the day he found out that his sister was among those the laws condemn. He thought all this time that Demacia's laws were closer to perfection than any other on Runeterra, but it seemed they were the furthest from it.

"What is it?" Irelia caught his solemn look, her own displaying empathy and a figurative helping hand.

"Nothing, just… digesting what I needed to hear. Thank you once again." He stood up, grabbing his sword and nodding a small bow.

"That's it for me for tonight. Don't let me stop you, though. Take as much time as you need or as many drinks as you need. Don't drink too much, though."

"Eh, I was done anyway. Time for me to turn in, too." She gulped the last of her ale and got up, following Garen up the stairs and to their rooms.

"Good night, Irelia."

"May you dream of home, Garen." They said their farewells and went to their rooms. Garen checked his room, making sure everything was locked up and his sword close but hidden. Irelia simply plopped on the bed, finally glad to be in an actual mattress and her head on a pillow. The sounds of the tavern were dimming for them both, replaced by the calmness of the ocean waves. Even Bilgewater had its moments of calm, it seemed. Irelia let the sounds lull her soul and mind to sleep, the two of them slowly dancing to the water crashing upon sand. Garen's mind was still in Demacia, with all the things that could be happening there now.

'May you dream of home.' It echoed inside him. He remembered what she told him of Ionia's unrest and clamor for vengeance against Noxus. Her home also had its ups and downs, but she accepted and dealt with them as best she could… or at least, seemed to. She adapted to the situation much faster than he did. Maybe both she and Katarina were right; he had spent too much time in his petricite tower of peace, order and rules. The world was so much larger than Demacia. There was beauty in it, hope and tranquility. There was also danger, horror, brutality and despair. Too many possibilities often lead to no possibility at all or worse, indecision. Indecision meant the worst possibility was most likely to come to fruition. It was just how it worked, that much he knew. People were not simple except when it came to survival, power and control, three features that were so deeply ingrained in the human soul that were they to be removed somehow, the being would no longer be called a human. He was convinced he found a way out through his dedication to home and family, but Runeterra, Noxus and Irelia all proved him wrong. There was a lot more in this world to discover and explore and even more to learn.

His eyes were slowly closing, his mind easing itself with each thought of his journey; Demacia was far away from him, but the rest of Runeterra welcomed him, ready to show him what he was ignoring all this time, test him with the dangers and maybe after all is said and done, allow him to return home. His eyes closed shut, dreams of horizons and unknown lands ahead of him flooding his mind and in place of the sun, the rising walls of Demacia marking the final destination of his long road.

The sounds of the waves from outside melded with those in his dreams as he dreamed, a small figure revealing itself atop the walls of Demacia. Garen knew who it was, even from this distance; the sun only shone the brightest when she was out to greet it.

'Wait for me, Lux. I promise I'll return.'


	4. Bilgewater - Way of Life

**Bilgewater - Part 2: Way of Life**

The waves crashing upon the shores coupled with the morning sun's rays gave strength and will to the sailors and dockhands of the slaughter docks, which prepared the giant machines for the catch of the previous Slaughter Fleet. Krakenwyrm, dragon shark, infant leviathan and hammerhead corpses oozed blood and bile over the floors and into the sea. Although they were tainted, the waters still flowed just enough to let the small cleaning boats and trawlers through which were already gathering around the Killhouse collecting the scraps, both the unneeded and the edible ones.

"Nothing wasted that has value, eh?" Garen observed the process, him and Irelia being led through the Killhouse on a tour of the place. Today was their first work day and they made sure to get all the details they needed for their jobs the days before. Lemmy was helpful despite his demeanor; he had seen a lot of action and knew each and every monster that prowled the Guardian Sea and the Serpent Isles. That was their name for their home, named after the great serpents of the sea that dwelled around the islands. He also told them of the monster horns, ancient massive horns carved by the indigenous Buhru people into the rocks. When it came time for a great hunt, the Serpent Callers would blow the horns, churning the waters and beckoning forth the sea monsters so the fleets can battle them. Today was such a day and Garen would be part of the hunt. He prepared accordingly, trading in the black iron broadsword for a giant dragon-shark bone blade, serrated, sharp and perfect for carving up the flesh of any sea monsters. He was also given a basic iron vest and leggings, not too much to slow him down but just enough to protect him from a heavy blow. Irelia, wearing a leather shirt, pants and a butcher's apron, followed behind, still trying to get used to the smell and the corpses and the sight of all the blood.

"Of course not, lad. The seas always provide, but we have to be the ones to take whatever they throw at us. Only things that randomly appear in Bilgewater are people like yourselves." Lemmy, leading the pair while sharpening the tip of his harpoon with a portable whetstone, explained what was and wasn't up to them. They were getting used to life in Bilgewater pretty quickly, but they still had a lot to learn to keep themselves alive. They stopped in front of a large slaughterhouse holding the carcass of a dragon-shark on massive nets. Butchers were already gathering, operating the saws used to cut the fins off of the beast while carvers holding serrated knives were carefully slicing off its rough skin and meat. The mouth of the beast was wide open, revealing its teeth, each of them the size of a small sword.

"This is your workplace, lass." Lemmy pointed to the mouth, particularly the rows of teeth that she had to remove. Removing a dragon-shark's tooth without damaging it was precise work and Lemmy, after getting a demonstration of Irelia's control over her blades the day before, decided she would be suited for this job. Irelia eyed the dead beast, placing a hand on its chin; it was lifeless, its soul long departed to return to the water and begin anew. At least, that's what she thought happened. All that was left was food, but what should've been an offering for the land and all who dwell upon it became feast and profit only for the hunters.

"Careful there, lass. Dragon shark skin is rougher than a normal shark's. You might hurt yourself." Lemmy warned her, but she already felt the skin's sharp scales, moving her fingers in the direction they grew in.

"I'll be fine. What should I do after I pull the teeth out?" She amazed herself at how easily she asked the question.

"See those iron chests over there? Each of them is for a specific body part. The ones with shark jaws are for teeth. Remember, pull first-"

"Then stash. Rinse and repeat, I know. What if I finish early?" She asked.

"Well, the docks pay for effort so if you think you've got what it takes, try out some of the other jobs. Otherwise, grab a pint or something." Lemmy suggested.

"Alright, this is the probably gonna be the last time you'll see each other in a few days… or ever." When it came to work, Lemmy didn't sugar-coat it. Garen was embarking on one of the single biggest Slaughter Fleets in Bilgewater. They were either expecting many catches or one really big one. Given Bilgewatians' penchant for challenge and reaching for higher prizes, it was probably the latter.

"I'll give you two a moment, but nothing more. We're on a schedule, lad." Lemmy loaded his harpoon and headed out of the slaughterhouse. The pair turned to each other, unsure of what to say that hasn't already been said.

"So… You gonna be alright? I mean, you and all this 'corpse defilement' as you put it…" Garen asked, but Irelia just scoffed.

"Speak for yourself. You're off to fight sea monsters… possibly even die." Something about that last part made her uncomfortable. Almost a month earlier, she would not have minded; she spoke the same words to him back in Noxus, when they separated. She was ready to die then, but he didn't let her. Maybe she was searching for a way to repay the favor now, but given their diverging courses, both the current and the long-term one, part of her was worried she might never get the chance.

"Remember your promise." She needed to say it, but she wasn't sure why.

"Of course, but… what brought this on?" He was genuinely curious.

"I just… I've been thinking about these last few weeks, our last two days in particular, and you were right. Despite our differences, we have to look out for each for the time being and with me being here and you being there… I don't think I can do that." She was slowly becoming more comfortable being honest with him. It paid off somewhat, judging by the reassuring hand he placed on her shoulder.

"I'll be fine. Trust me." She wanted to protest it, but that infernal smile of his, heartening and optimistic, made it frustratingly difficult. Part of her mind wondered if he knew how challenging it was to reject him when he did that, but based on what she had seen and heard of him in the brief time she had known him, he was not only unaware but he fully believed whatever words were spoken during it. Maybe that was all he needed, both to say and to believe. Before she could respond, he was already at the gates.

"Wait for me, my friend. I'll return." Garen turned one last time, expression stoic but no less friendly. He left, his sword and footsteps being the only things Irelia could see and hear.

'No point dwelling on it. Time to get to work… Spirit forgive me…' She braced her blades and began carefully carving the gums of the dragon-shark.

Garen walked to the edge of the Killhouse, turning a corner and meeting with a marvelous sight; thirty ships, all of them armed, the five largest armored with extra layers of ironwood and about two thousand four hundred crew members all loading and preparing supplies, guns, harpoons and armaments.

"There you are, lad." Lemmy greeted him, but Garen was too intrigued by the sight to notice him. An elbow to his side got his attention.

"Oh. My apologies, I-"

"Quite the thing, ain't it lad? This is gonna be the single biggest embarking yet. Them old Callers noticed the seas' cleanliness and summoned almost all of our ships." Lemmy led him through the crowds and up the deck of the Titan Jaw, the flagship of the Slaughter Fleet. It was a massive dreadnaught with its bow modeled like a shark's mouth, a large cannon protruding from the 'throat'. The broadsides were outfitted with at least thirty cannons in three rows. On the deck stood three tall masts made of the finest ironwood in Bilgewater. To top it off, the entire ship was painted with symbols of Nagakabouros, similar to the mansion Garen and Irelia visited.

"That's her, lad. The Titan Jaw, Bilgewater's biggest and baddest monster killing vessel. The Callers told me to prepare her specifically. You know what this means, laddie?" Lemmy had a wild look in his eyes, enforced further by his hungry smile.

"This is gonna be a hunt to be remembered. Legendary, even." Lemmy slapped Garen's shoulder as he led him up the deck. Garen grew curious about both the vessel and the hunt.

"How many monsters has this ship killed?"

"Its track record is fifty seven. They were all big meats, too. Not like them small serpents or hammerheads you saw back at the slaughter docks and nothing like the dragon-sharks your lass is skinning, either. Some of the beasts this ship has slain were the size of a small mountain and with the strength of a mountain drake." Lemmy inspected the rudder. Everything was working properly. The other crew members were finalizing preparations, as was the entire fleet.

"Quite impressive, but to have this vessel plus twenty-nine others head out… What are we hunting exactly?" Garen asked.

"That's for our Caller to tell us. The Fleet is stopping by the Serpent Horns west of the bay. Those are open waters and with plenty of room to maneuver and fight, which the Fleet will need. Like I said, lad, the only certain thing about this hunt is the size of the monster." Lemmy strapped his harpoon gun to the rack near the rudder, which was filled save for his spot.

"You remember your job, lad?"

"Right next to yours, yes. We are the harpooners. Once the Hookshots restrain whatever monster we are chasing, you, me and several others fire our harpoons onto the beast and then jump onto it, hit the weak spots and make sure it's dead. After that, we haul in the carcass and get our rewards." Garen summed up his role.

"Good man. Looks like we're just about ready, too." Lemmy looked to the docks, the captains of the fleet now calling all hands to the ships.

"All aboard, you bilgerats! Loose the sails, hoist the anchor and let's do what we were **born to do!**" Lemmy shouted out to his crew, which hailed him heartily and obeyed his orders. The giant anchor of the Titan Jaw was raised and the sails were loose, the Mother Serpent adorning them and raising the spirits of the sailors. Garen, however, studied the symbol; the five eyes represented desire, the teeth represented danger and the tentacles represented opportunity. All three combined represented life; we chase our desires, face the dangers and challenges in our way with the opportunities presented to us and then return to the vortex to begin yet again. At least, that's how Velvet described it, as she was a believer.

He was not a religious man nor did he ever imagine he would become one. Mortals led too short a life for a god of any sort to understand, so if they couldn't be bothered with mortals, why should mortals bother with them? He never truly understood why anyone would bow to something they didn't understand or at least had any idea what they dealt with. Belief was another core element of the human soul, however, and Garen understood that one most of all. Everyone had to believe in something, whether it was a higher power, the goodness in others, a nation's creed or in oneself. It was one of things capable of keeping corruption away from the soul, if utilized properly.

Loud horn sounds pulled him away from his thoughts as the ships began casting off. Lemmy and the other captains all pulled out a Golden Kraken, tossing them in the water, paying the Tithe to the Mother Serpent for safe passage to their destination. With the Titan Jaw at the head, the five dreadnoughts at her sides, the Hookshots at the middle and the Cannoneers and monster trawlers in the back, the largest Slaughter Fleet embarked on its hunt. Though the sun was shining, the winds were restless, pushing the sails faster and faster towards open water. All hands were at their stations, Garen himself helping out with the harpoon cannons. The seas were undulating, waves rousing the ships and preparing them for conflict.

Nagakabouros made the day ripe for battle, men and monsters ready to meet head on and fight 'till glory or death.

* * *

Irelia carved out the last of the dragon-shark's teeth, her apron and boots drenched in blood. The marked chest was full, each of the teeth having been carefully stashed by Irelia in orderly columns. She breathed out, letting the horrid deed out of her. She wasn't used to so much flesh carving or blood.

"Oi, new girl. If you're done here, get your stash out to the storage house and then take a break. We've got another one of these buggers coming in tomorrow." Another butcher called out, a woman carrying two sets of carving knives, one on her back and the other in her hands.

"Very well…" She was looking forward to only one of the upcoming events. The butcher left for one of the larger wyrms, grinding her knives against each other. It appalled Irelia how eager people here were to kill living things, carve and steal from dead ones and be ignorant of their own greed. She eyed her bloody deed once again, mouth deprived of teeth, sides and spine without fins and tailless. She could never fathom why hunters in other regions of the world thought they deserved all the spoils of the kill. Not only did it harm the land, but it harmed its denizens as well; other creatures needed to feed as well, nurturing the balance of nature by doing so. Humans thought everything always belonged to them. Greed was something ingrained in human nature, as was desire for power. It was inside her as well, though she wanted to use both for different reasons. If one could not go against nature, one could at least redirect the flow to better and more useful purposes. It was just another of the philosophies dancing taught her.

She grabbed the stash, eyeing the dead shark one last time. The part responsible for the fraying emotion known as pity managed to take control over her for a little bit, making her put down the chest and going over to the corpse.

"I'm sorry. You probably didn't deserve to be defiled like this. I hope you can forgive me." She spoke, placing a hand on its scarred tissue. It looked peaceful apart from a small grumble… which then got louder. Irelia backed away in alarm; the corpse was twitching. She readied her blades, following the rumbling along the body to the toothless mouth. From the throat of the shark, a strange small creature jumped out, landing on its behind, yelling out in disgust and shaking off saliva and stomach fluids on the ground. Irelia's alarm gave way to curiosity and wariness; the creature had blue skin, tentacle-like protrusions on its head, big green eyes and carried a strange three-pronged trident. Her blades lowered and reformed, but she still remained on guard.

"Ugh… Bleh! 'I'll be fine, Chomper. I just wanna talk to it…' Yeah, that's the last time I don't listen to him…" To Irelia's surprise, the creature spoke in a raspy but childlike tone. After shaking off the bile on its head, it got up in an acrobatic fashion, twirling to its feet with the help of the trident. It looked around, eyeing its surroundings with more curiosity than fear or disgust until it spotted Irelia, who recoiled slightly at its lit-up eyes.

"Hi there! I'm Fizz. You're probably wondering what I'm doing in the belly of a dragon-shark. Well, you aren't the first one, let me tell you. Chomper also warned me not to talk to this one, something about it being too dangerous to come near to. So me being me, I don't listen to him, swim straight up to this guy, say hi… and then he eats me! What the heck, right?! So while in his stomach, I figure 'eh, might as well make myself as comfy as I can be before he craps me out or throws me up', but then he dies, gets netted and I end up here! Go figure, right? So uh… what's your name?" The creature calling itself Fizz introduced himself and his current adventure.

"I, uhm… I am called Irelia. Nice to… meet you." She was talking to him, a yordle-like creature that came out of the stomach of a dead dragon-shark. Was every first meeting in Bilgewater this peculiar?

"Nice to meet you too, Irelia! Y'know, most folks around here shoo me away, swing swords at me or try to shoot me. Good to _finally_ meet someone who actually says 'hi'. Well, other than Chomper, of course." Fizz hopped around her, trying to get a better look at her.

"What's that behind your head?" He asked.

"My family's crest."

"What's it do?" He didn't show any signs of stopping.

"It splits into blades." She demonstrated by separating the crest.

"That's so cool… I have this trident! I kinda found it after my home was destroyed and my people died. It's probably not cooler than your blades, but it has weird sea powers that I've been trying to unlock. Been using it ever since I grabbed it, with the usual jumping on it, eating with it and occasionally stabbing a few select people's butts. Never gets old." Fizz laughed at his own shenanigans.

"Wait… your people and home were destroyed? That must have felt horrible…" Irelia looked slightly surprised, extending any empathy she could. She had never seen a creature such as him, so she was shocked to hear there used to be more like him.

"Yeah, but I'm not alone! The seas are my home now and Chomper is my best friend. He helps me through rough days, tight spots and is generally a very friendly guy." Fizz felt the need to assuage her concerns. She seemed like a pleasant and kind person, a far cry from Bilgewater's common residents. He liked her.

"Chomper?" Irelia finally asked about Fizz's strange acquaintance.

"Yeah. He's the single coolest dragon-shark that prowls the waters. Stealthy, smart, cunning, super strong and a little bit curious. Kinda like me, except for the super strong part." Fizz described his partner.

"Dragon-shark? Oh… I see…" Irelia looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. Fizz was confused, but one look at the stash of teeth and the blood on her apron told him everything.

"Oh! Don't worry about this guy. He was a horrible jerk, only eating and killing for sport. Well, that's what Chomper told me, but based on how rude this guy was to me, he was telling the truth." Fizz pointed to the dragon-shark carcass, kicking it in the chin.

"Serves you right, you jerkwad." Fizz wanted to mouth off his anger, but felt a hand on his small shoulder.

"Come on. Don't do that. You'll just be acting like a jerk yourself." Irelia lectured the miffed little blue creature. It felt strange teaching him manners, but Fizz had the attitude of a child coupled with a strange aquatic wisdom. Her soul felt a tiny string slowly bonding with his.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks for helping me, though." Fizz turned to her, a big smile on his face.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, if it wasn't for you, I'd have never seen the right way out. Those teeth were messing up my nose and eyes and I didn't want to get out… the other way." Fizz pointed to his own butt.

"Oh… uhm… you're welcome, Fizz." She said, earnest and confused.

"Say, do you need something in return? A few chests of gold, maybe? I know this place where these old gangers used to stash their ill-gotten loot and maybe-" Fizz started, but Irelia interrupted him.

"No, Fizz. I appreciate the thought, but I must pull my own weight. Stealing, even from thieves, is not for me." Irelia stood by her principles.

"But I feel like I need to give you _something_, at least… Oh, I know!" Fizz stuck his trident in the floor and dove back in the shark's mouth, baffling Irelia. The corpse twitched as Fizz passed through it, delving deeper into its stomach. After a few moments, it stopped. Irelia was growing concerned for some reason.

"Fizz?" She called out.

"Found it!" His muffled cry came out of the mouth, him making his way back and leaping out, shaking off the bile yet again. He held something shiny in his right hand.

"Here. I found this in the intestines. Dunno what it is but it's shiny and looks valuable." Fizz held out a small golden plate adorned with strange markings on the edges and a ruby X in the middle.

"Fizz, I-" Irelia started, but Fizz cut her off.

"Just take it, alright? Throw it in the ocean, put it back in the stomach or sell it. I don't care what you do with it, as long as it yours to do with as you please." Fizz seemed insistent. He really didn't like being indebted to people who did right by him and he made sure they knew it. Irelia was hesitant, but she didn't want to disappoint the little guy.

"Very well." Irelia took the golden plate, studying the markings which resembled hands.

"What is it?" She asked. Fizz just shrugged.

"I dunno. I just stumbled on it while inside that guy's stomach. Looks like it's been torn out of something though, don't it?" Fizz eyed it. Irelia felt the edges of the plate; the markings were indeed incomplete, like they were a part of something more. Furthermore, the X-shaped ruby in the center peaked her interest. What was it meant to represent? Before she could study it further, Fizz grabbed a shark tooth from the chest.

"I'll just take one of these, then. Need something to bring back to the seas, right? Besides, I need proof to show to Chomper or he'll never believe my story." Fizz jumped on his trident, skillfully detaching from the ground and grabbing it with his hand.

"Thanks again, Irelia." Fizz extended his hand, but before Irelia could shake it, the butcher lady from before entered the room.

"New girl, where's your che- What the… **YOU AGAIN!**" The lady pointed at Fizz, drawing her knives. Fizz, smiling slyly and twirling his trident mischievously, hopped over her swing, knocking her aside and dashing out the doors.

"Gotta run. See ya, Irelia!" He waved goodbye while dodging the thrown knife. Outside the docks, some of the dockhands caught sight of Fizz, giving chase and yelling curses after him. The butcher lady ran out after him, shark teeth and their value completely forgotten. Irelia was left alone once again, dumbfounded but also a little bit amused. Deciding there was no point dawdling, she grabbed the chest, now a tooth short, and headed out to the warehouse.

* * *

The winds were impatient, carrying the Slaughter Fleet on the westernmost side of the Isles, a Buhru settlement coming in sight of the crow nests. Even from this distance, Garen could make out the rows of stalagmites protruding from the water. As the fleet approached, he saw massive fish coiled around them, their mouths open as if trying to drink the seas. Upon closer inspection, however, they weren't fish. The Buhru Monster Horns surprised him with their designs, as did the approaching boat, a small vessel decorated with flowers, fruits, tentacles and manned by two people. The fleet's own horns sounded off, anchors dropping instantly and the entire fleet halting its advance.

"They're early... That's new." Lemmy commented, preparing a ladder for the boat. Once it was close enough, the figures took it, climbing aboard. The rower, a small but stout girl and a strangely dressed aging man; his sleeves were decorated like tentacles while his hood was similar to that of the Monster Horns. His mantle resembled that of a priest's, decorated with sea symbols and the familiar face of the Kraken.

"Motoi. You're early, old man." Lemmy greeted the elder priest, who returned the greeting.

"Nagakabouros is eager today. The other elders predicted a great hunt and sent me to make sure it goes through. I see you brought everything so let's not delay. Take me to the horns." Motoi explained, motioning his rower to leave. The girl jumped in the water, swam to the boat and then rowed away from the fleet.

"Why did she not just climb down the ladder?" Garen asked.

"We're Buhru, whelp. We do what whatever our hearts desire. Haven't your employers taught you anything?" Motoi asked, but then began studying him.

"You're not from around here, are you boy?" He asked.

"No. I'm from Demacia." Garen answered. Motoi's face lit up in surprise.

"A Demacian? In the Serpent Isles? You're far from home … in more ways than one." Motoi noted. Garen noted his peculiar people reading skills.

"But I don't care where you're from or what you're doing here. All that matters is that you're ready to fight. So… are you ready?" He asked, indifferent of Garen's intentions or past.

"I am." He answered. Motoi, seeing his determination and will shine through his firm words, just nodded and turned to Lemmy.

"I hope he's got good aim." He commented and left for the bow of the ship.

"We'll see, won't we? Maybe he'll even make a legend for himself as a harpooner, eh?" Lemmy tapped Garen on the shoulder and motioning him to follow. The fleet's horns blasted yet again, signaling the anchor raising and departure towards the Serpent Horns. As they approached, Garen studied the constructions; they were carefully carved from the stalagmites themselves instead of being constructed on top of them, with wooden mouthpieces serving as additions to the natural constructions. Each of them was painted different hues of colors though he couldn't guess what for. Even with a small breeze passing through mouths, he could hear their call, low as it was.

"Ancient carvings, lad, in case you're wondering. Been here way before Bilgewater was even built, let alone started the hunting trade. The Buhru, the natives of these isles, built them in the image of the beasts they hunt and revere." Lemmy explained a tiny bit about the natives of the Serpent Isles.

"Hunt _and_ revere? What do you mean?" Garen was confused.

"Battle is not a test of strength to the Buhru, Garen. It's a test of will, to live, to fight and to move forward towards whatever your goal is. The monsters of the sea are the ultimate testers of the Isles. If you can't outfight or outrun them, you die. If you can conquer them and kill them, however, you will be considered a true soul. It's a rite of passage to them, lad. To that end, much of Bilgewater's culture and way of life is adapted from their own… with our own interpretations of holiness, of course." Lemmy spoke, readying his harpoon gun. The crews of the fleet were preparing as well, cannons being loaded, hooks sharpened and prayers to the Mother Serpent being spoken by the religious.

"Ready to be a legend, lad?" Lemmy asked him.

"Harpooners are legends in Bilgewater?" Garen grew curious despite the energy in the air.

"Well, there have been many. Half-hand Ellie, Gilbert the Hawk, Pyke of Bloodharbor, Shanie Three-Eyes… too many to list. Monster hunting is just the quickest way, assuming you don't die." Grabbing the rudder, Lemmy steered the Titan Jaw, his crew sounding the horn signaling the other ships to prepare. The fleet slowly entered formation; the Titan Jaw was at the center, its armaments prepped for battle. Four of the dreadnoughts stood at her side while the fifth sailed behind the fleet. The Cannoneers were on fire support while the Hookshots stood behind the dreadnoughts, their long-range harpoon cannons ready to skewer any beast that dared show its teeth. The entire fleet faced the seas, dark and rumbling clouds from the east heralding a storm.

"Light the fire, people!" Lemmy bellowed. On the deck, two crewmen lit a giant sconce, fanning the smoke. It was a signal to the fleet and to the Callers to prepare. From the rocky shores, Motoi and the other two callers climbed up on the Serpent Horns, standing atop the structures and next to the mouthpieces. Once the last billow of smoke left for the skies, they took a deep breath and blew the horns.

The sound was unlike anything Garen had ever heard; the winds themselves gave way to the soundwave, which churned the waters and rocked the ships. Many of the younger and newer crewmen covered their ears, startled by the sound. It was louder than a dragon's roar, thundering across the sea, a deep bellow to stir the monsters and issue the challenge. It simmered down after a few minutes, the echoes still lingering in the distance. The air stood still after the call, the sun slowly hiding behind the approaching clouds. The restless winds were abruptly calmed, as if they were misbehaving children caught by their parents. The waves were flat, an unusual phenomenon for the Isles. Everyone was on edge; the crow nesters kept both their eyes sharp and on the horizons, the gunners were holding their torches tight, the harpooners' fingers were twitching and the captains were keeping their vigil on everyone aboard. Situations like this usually had people jumping overboard on the first sight of the monster. The silence was starting to affect even the priests of Nagakabouros. Motoi knew that the god promised them a hunt unlike any other, but it never spoke much beyond that. He worried about his interpreter as well, the Kraken Priestess Illaoi. She was never one for sermons or sign watching. He still wondered why Nagakabouros chose her, a reckless, selfish, unpredictable overgrown ape of a woman. Maybe those were the reasons. The only one to keep a still mind among the restive atmosphere was Garen, who took a deep breath, taking the anticipation in. He let it out, all of the clouding and hindering thoughts of defeat and death going with it, replaced by steel will, strong grip and stout heart. Beside him, Lemmy noticed his expression, smiling lightly to himself.

'He wasn't lying about the dragon or his other feats, it seems. Let's hope you live through this day, boy. Who knows, your legend may grow yet…' Lemmy knew better than to voice hope at a time like this, moving to the bow's wooden beam and kneeling at the tip. Harpooners like him observed the waters, gouging the size of the monster by the type and size of the smaller fish swimming away from it… and there were many on the way. Trouts, longfins, carps, spadetails, small sharks, salt salmons… the usual small fish, but their numbers were alarming. They swam almost in schools, gliding past the ships.

"Steady, people…" Lemmy called out to the others. Harpooners had excellent body reflexes, but their minds were still that of a human, as easily broken as they could be focused. With the clouds and the lightning almost on top of them, that pendulum was swinging in the former direction. It wasn't enough for today, it seemed; as soon as the smaller schools of fish swam by, larger ones followed; hammerheads, squids, octopuses and infant dragon-sharks all swam trough the fleet, alarming almost everyone. How large was the beast they came for?

Garen took another breath, the air saturated with a familiar rainy smell. Sure enough, small droplets began dripping onto the seas, ships and islands. The sun was completely hidden by the clouds, the long shadows cast by their obscuring forms delivering a warning and foreboding to the souls below. The light and the warmth were no longer here to give them hope. They were on their own now.

"Ahead!" One of the crow nesters yelled. Everyone cast their eyes ahead of the fleet; in the east, a wave was approaching slowly, unlike what storms and hurricanes brought in. It grew larger and larger, gradually overtaking the shores until it neared the fleet's point. The crews steeled themselves, weapons at the ready… and then the wave died down.

"At the ready!" Lemmy shouted, noticing the loosening grips on his crews. The rain was starting to pour now, drenching the decks and somewhat soothing the hotter heads. Beneath the dripping droplets on wood, a sound was breaking through from below the water. It grew from a grumble, alarming everyone and chasing away the fish completely, into a roar that churned the air and waters. Before the Titan Jaw, a massive dorsal fin arose, slowly ascending above the surface and carrying much of the water with it. A large orb of light poked out of the shadowed watery veil, illuminating it in a tiny ray of colors… and the two more lit up, with one last pair to mark the creature's upper face. More than thirty feet high and still rising, a mouth was bared, a howling darkness behind it, rows of teeth at least ten meters high, breath as foul as the abyss overtaking the fleet. Behind the abomination its giant serpent tail revealed the rest of its rows of fins, scales as sharp and wide as butcher knives, tougher than steel and littered with dried skin and bleached bones of both human and monster. From its left and right sides, four tentacles began rising, as if they were small islands being raised from the depths by some sorcery. It stood now, above all lesser beings, hundred feet off the water, its eyes suns in the darkness of the storm, its teeth a doorway into the nothingness, its tentacles extensions of death's hands.

A Mother Leviathan.

The roar, a challenge in the tongues of beasts, deafened the crews, some of them falling overboard from the force, its sonic waves blasting away the waters and blowing off the masts on the smaller ships. The anchors barely held them in place, struggling against the abomination's scream. Garen, barely holding on himself, looked around, making sure everyone was still here and with their heads still on their shoulders. Lemmy, hearing returned, eyed the monster, taking in its very existence… and finally giving the order.

"**BATTLE STATIONS!**" At Lemmy's bellow, the crews yelled out their battlecries, some out of courage, others scared out of their skins but going on anyway and some out of insanity and fearlessness. The Titan Jaw fired the first round, its bow guns hitting the scales of the Mother Leviathan. The other ships followed suit, as did the clouds with their own take of lightning and thunder. Amidst the chaos, Garen gripped his sword and harpoon, mind steady despite the burning atmosphere.

The battle had begun… and it would end with either victory or death.

* * *

The slaughter docks were on full alert for the Tidal Trickster, dockhands searching every nook, corner and cranny for the little blue yordle. Business continued, however, as corpses cared not who gutted them first. The butchers had to make sure it was them and not the bacteria or the wharf rats. Irelia walked past all the commotion, eager to leave and return home. She rounded the corner of the docks and was met with the sea; sprawling blue waves, birds she had never seen before circling, fish swimming through the rocky spires, ships sailing in and out. Deciding to take a detour, she descended down a flight of wooden stairs which lead down a secluded waterway, one unspoiled by brine, filth and company. Following it, she found a small paradise; a beach untouched by anything other than salt and seawater. Spotting a lone rock, she took a seat, resting her weary soul. The sun was on its last afternoon course, slowly beginning to color the horizon orange, warming her back through the shanties and cliffs. She looked northeast, to the direction of her homeland. What was happening there now? Was Navori in turmoil because of her disappearance? Did the Brotherhood take control, using her 'death' as an excuse to turn its people from proud to spiteful? She stopped once she realized she was losing control of the crest, as she subconsciously separated it into blades. She looked back to the skies, the dim lights of the stars slowly coming into the sky's darkening blue veil. There was no one around. She was finally alone.

'Stretch and breathe. A hand's movement, shoulder to wrist. Let the body's energy flow through all of its parts, not just the ones you need. Feet on the ground but never off the air. Feel it through all motions. Let it guide you.'

She began, using the waves as a template. Extended arms, shoulder to wrist, moving in circles along with her upper body. A swiftly risen leg, brought down slowly in a motion as fluid as the water she danced near. A twirl, mimicking a cyclone's force but not its destruction, on a perfectly balanced foot. A sidestep, mirroring the same motions previously made. A step back, twirling with the breeze, arms above and leg lifted back. A step to the left, a half-turn, stretching her arms in the same direction, her left knee lifted.

"And… back to center." She whispered to the sea and wind, returning to her original position with one last half-turn. Despite the city's greedy shadow and cliffs' looming stature, she felt the peace of the land. It was nothing like Ionia's calm grass rivers, rice fields or luminous forests, but she could still hear it. Something strange hung in the air, however. Foreboding gripped her ankles and wrists, as if it was warning her about a coming danger. She cast her eyes further westward, spotting the gathering clouds over the farthest islands… where the Slaughter Fleet was.

"Garen…" The crest was separating again. She retracted it and disconnected it from her mind, lowering it gently to the sand.

"Great Spirit… I hope you can hear me, even in this place." She clasped her hands; when she was younger, O-ma always told her stories of the Great Spirit of Ionia, a presence that resides inside every Ionian creature, soul and plant, tying the land together in harmony. She told her granddaughter that if she is ever distressed or is uncertain of her course, she should simply reach out, in any way or form. The Great Spirit would hear her without a doubt.

"I have never prayed for myself, nor have I asked others to pray for me. I never will. I made a vow to myself to put others before me, to be their hope, their light and their courage. I am far from home now, surrounded by strangers whose ways are abhorrent to me, to everything Ionia taught me. Before that, I was truly alone, in darkness and in chains and in a land so twisted and perverted by war and slaughter that it had forgotten the meaning and value of life. In that land, however, something happened. Or rather, someone. I don't know if you sent him, Great Spirit, if it was some other gods' intervention, the machinations of fate or a simple coincidence. I met a warrior from a land far away from Ionia, so far that it may as well be on the other side of the world. I didn't think much of him at first, and he wasn't. He was a stubborn fool, noble to a fault and so brave that he turned full-circle into stupid." She smiled of the memories of them escaping together.

"And yet, in the name of family, I abandoned him. I ran away in the other direction, clinging to the past and its pieces. In that giant bastion, I should've died. I would've finally seen my family again…" She took a breath, thinking of her parents, their advice and careful guidance of the choices she made while young. She thought of her siblings, their roughhousing, misbehavior and wanton teasing. At the end of the day, however, they all stuck together. She thought of her grandmother, who, despite her cheery and laid back demeanor, was always ready to teach her the next step or the next twirl. She missed them greatly, but she reflected that through her dances, as she did everything else. Each motion made in secret expressed everything inside her, built up and released into the world through her movements. It was the only audience she needed; being a symbol left little time for oneself.

"But by those same strange machinations… choices… whatever it was… he returned for me. The fool part was confirmed then and there, but so were the brave and noble parts. There was another part, though, one I had not seen in the midst of battle, especially not a battle for survival. He was… understanding of my burdens. He never chastised me, even though he had every right. He… accepted my plight and helped me carry it. He called me something I had not heard in a long time and I would never have expected from someone so different, so… opposite of me." She remembered his decision, the one that cost him journey home. She couldn't help but feel responsible for his predicament. He never blamed her, for some reason. Still, she felt guilty… but she could never bring herself to admit it. And then… he used that word…

"He called me friend. Despite the beliefs he held and the laws he swore to uphold, of which I am, or would be, in violation of, he thinks of me as a friend. Despite our views, he never once believed I was a symbol of my nation nor did he talk to me like I was one. He treated me as a person, with disagreements, choices, feelings and reason. I knew right then and there… He meant what he said." Irelia smiled at the thought of Garen, a stubborn, hardy, lawful yet emphatic and encouraging soldier of Demacia, making her feel more… normal. It wouldn't last, but she would take what he freely and gladly offered. Her expression turned longing, a tinge of hope layered on top of it.

"Come to think of it, we weren't that different in the stubbornness part… or the fool part. He was just as headstrong in continuing on his path as I was on mine. And that's why… That's why I am asking this of you now, Great Spirit." She clasped her hands tighter, her eyes shut and her mind on the Demacian fool with an irritating and irresistible smile.

"Keep Garen safe. I cannot do so from here. My soul was too… burdened to go with him. So, please… return my friend to me." It was as simple as requests go and as human as wishes go. She hoped the Spirit heard her plea.

"Who's Garen?" Within an instant, the crest returned to her, splitting itself as she turned to the noise.

"Whoa, hey! It's me, Irelia! It's just me." The little blue yordle came out of hiding. She lowered her blades, letting out the breath of wariness she held.

"You really shouldn't eavesdrop on people, Fizz. Weren't you taught manners?" Even though it was only the yordle, she still couldn't help but be angry. He meant well, but her only desire was solace for the time being.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to, but I didn't wanna interrupt. You looked like you were having fun… until you started praying or whatever that was." Fizz threw his trident next to her, hopping on it and sliding down the pole. He sat next to her, eyes filled with curiosity.

"So, you gonna tell me who Garen is?"

"He's a soldier from Demacia. We were both captured by Noxus and sentenced to die. We helped each other escape and came here." Irelia gave him the short version of her and Garen's meeting.

"Sounds like a nice guy." Fizz commented.

"Yeah, well… he's tenacious, headstrong, stubborn to fault and a bit of a fool. He's also noble, considerate and fair. In short, he's my friend." Irelia summed up the Demacian and her relationship with him.

"Sounds like a _really_ nice guy. So… where is he now?" Fizz asked. Irelia pointed to the gathering storm west.

"There. He is part of a Slaughter Fleet, hunting beasts in order to pay off his debts and secure a passage home. We both are, but butchering monsters is… difficult for me. Hunting them is a sacred trial in my homeland, not sport and business like in this place. I couldn't go with him, so I asked the Great Spirit to watch over him." Irelia felt just as relaxed around the yordle as she did with Garen.

"Huh… that's a mighty big storm, even from here. Ah well. If he's as tough as you make him out to be, I'm sure he'll be just-" Fizz began, but a sound came from the seas, growing louder. It was a roar, coming from the west where the fleet was. The entire city heard it, people already gathering above, their chatter and cries heard even from down where the two were. The waters and winds were restless, throwing Irelia into anxiousness. Fizz just stared worried. He knew what it was and Irelia saw it in his eyes.

"Fizz? What was that?"

"You said he was with a Slaughter Fleet in that direction, right?" He asked.

"Yes, but what was that sound? It came from there, Fizz. Please… answer me." She looked worried.

"A Mother Leviathan. Best you don't know the details, but let's just say your guy better be a **really** good fighter and survivor." Fizz told her, glee and light disappearing from his eyes, replaced by honesty and solemnity. Knowing the yordle's antics, seeing those emotions in his eyes sent a wave of anguish through her body.

Her heart clasped shut, trying to keep the despair from entering it. Her mind only had one thought, hoping it would reach him.

'Remember your promise.'

* * *

Lightning flashed, followed by thunder's roar as the Mother Leviathan raised her tentacle, smashing apart one of the Cannoneers, its crew either lucky enough to be killed or falling into the water, where the sharks, drawn in by the smell of blood, circled and attacked them. The other vessels kept their barrages up, but nothing could penetrate its hide, the hooks only getting stuck on its scales while the cannonballs bounced off, dropping into the sea. Amidst the battle, Garen, Lemmy and a team of harpooners stood at the helm of the Titan Jaw.

"Alright, lads and lasses! Listen up! That thing's hide is impenetrable, save for six points; its throat and its five eyes! The tentacles keep the throat covered, so we need them raised in order to expose it!" Lemmy bellowed over the fight, another ship being smashed to pieces.

"How do we do that?!" One of the harpooners asked.

"We distract her! She is already preoccupied with the others, which gives us a clear shot at her! We fire our lines at the tentacle on our right, the one closest to its mouth! Once there, we climb up towards her eyes and stab 'em out! Once she reels in pain, our Hookshots will fire on the rest of the tentacles to disable them, leaving her throat open for the Titan Jaw! We leave only when she's **down**, and not before! We'll just die if we do!" Lemmy laid out the plan, already at his position and prepping his gun. The others, including Garen, took up their places and stood ready. The Mother Leviathan smashed into one of the dreadnoughts, unable to bring it down from the force alone. As she coiled her tentacle around it, she raised another one in order to crush it completely, giving Lemmy, Garen and the others a clear shot.

"GO!" Lemmy fired, latching the spike onto the scaled of the tentacle. The others fired as well, all of the shots hitting and latching on. As the Mother Leviathan slowly raised her tentacle, the harpooners reeled in their lines, pulled of the ground with the Leviathan's own strength. They got through just barely before the monster brought the tentacle down on the dreadnought, snapping its hull in half. Securing their lines, they grabbed on to the scales, careful not to slice their own hands off from too much on their edges.

"Climb, people! CLIMB!" Lemmy bellowed through the thunder and cannon fire. Through rain and steely scales, the harpooners began their long climb. When Nagakabouros promised hunts, however, it did not pull its punches. The Leviathan, thrashing after wrecking the dreadnought, noticed the shouts on its left side, turning its massive head and spotting the harpooners, now exposed to her glowing, hungry eyes.

"She sees us!" One of the harpooners shouted, but it was too late; the furthest left tentacle rose up, slowly winding up to turn them into smears across the Leviathan's scales.

"LOOSE GRIPS! JUMP!" Lemmy shouted. They began loosening their grips, but the tentacle was already on top of them, smashing into the scales and grinding the ones caught right under it into chunks of meat and bone. Lemmy was thrown off by the force of the smash, dropping into the water like a cannonball. His brain wanted to go dark from the pain, but he forced himself to consciousness, driven by nothing but will. He eyed his surroundings and spotted it; a hungry hammerhead eyeing him, food for its belly. He turned to it, gripping his harpoon.

'Come get me then, you bastard.' He waited until the hammerhead lunged, teeth going for his head. Once it was right on top of him, he ducked under it, bringing up his harpoon and slicing it jaw to belly. Making sure there weren't any left, he swam up to the surface. Ships were sinking, burning wreckages ignited by their own powder lighting the water, illuminating the blood, corpses and death.

'Great hunt, my arse… This isn't a hunt, this is a massacre.' Lemmy was appalled, but quickly regained his composure when he spotted a ladder being thrown near him. He landed near the Titan Jaw, his luck still holding out after all these years. Once aboard, he scanned the waters near the tentacle.

'Melvin, Tillis, Helena, Jonah… all of them…' He mourned for his harpooners as he found bits of their clothing.

"Captain, it's all gone to hell! One dreadnought is at the bottom of the sea, three Cannoneers and a trawler as well! Three hundred souls and going lost to the seas as well! We need to retreat!" His First Mate reported on the situation, not that he needed a report. They lost their only shot. He stared out near the tentacle again… looking for something. He didn't spot anything that belonged to _him_.

"Where's Garen?!" He asked. The First Mate shook his head in confusion.

The massive tentacle retracted from the scales, dragging the powdery chunks of flesh to the ocean. As the Mother Leviathan turned her attention to the fleet once more, a lone hand gripped her scales. Garen, having barely held onto his harpoon, was hanging out of sight of the monster, clutching the scales in his right hand and the embedded harpoon in his left. He took in a breath once more, trying to steady his mind; he had _never_ fought or even seen something like this before. Dragons were mobile and strong, but not very bright. This creature not only had a cunning predatory mind, but also an unrelenting desire to destroy all who challenged it. He grabbed hold, climbing the scales carefully and silently, masked by the darkness, thunder, cannon fire and screams. The rain poured at full force and yet the scales remained dry, as if absorbing the fresh water. Garen, securing a better grip in place, peered out of the creature's side; the fleet was in disarray, ships sinking, men and women drowning, being ripped apart, fighting off sharks or crushed to death by either the debris or tentacles. He looked down, trying to clear his head once more.

Nothing helped against that. It was easy for him to get used to a skirmish, a clean ambush or a defensive battle. This was a nightmare. The monster, its size and strength were augmented by its cleverness, was destroying the fleet ship by ship, not allowing any of them to reveal its weakness. Once again, he found himself on the edge of hope. He looked down to the water; there were no sharks behind the monster. He could let go and swim across, to one of the islands. The screams of battle, both those of the monster and the crews, however, chained him to the spot. They depended on him…

They didn't even know if he was alive or dead… In the cover of darkness, he could turn away, get to one of the other islands and find some other means of returning home…

'May you dream of home…'

'Remember your promise.'

Why? Why was her voice in his thoughts? Why now, of all times?

Because he would be abandoning her, too. All for a desire to survive and return home.

He opened his eyes, steel will and light of hope melding inside them, and tightened his grip on the harpoon. He looked up, measuring the distance of the climb; he had about a hundred feet to scale before he reached the head. Courage returned once more, he pulled out the harpoon and began climbing. Home was far away… and this monster stood in his path. He picked up the pace, slowly reaching thirty feet before the monster reeled back. Garen quickly stabbed his harpoon into its scales, holding on for life as the rest of the scales were slowly cutting the skin of his free hand, testing his Demacian conditioning and fortitude. It all suddenly paused… and then the Leviathan snapped forward, teeth open and descending fat towards the water. The force of the snap threw him upward, gaining at least eighty feet. From the front, however, he heard explosions and screams, complimented by an orange light from the mouth of the monster. The Leviathan had just devoured another of the dreadnoughts, its ironwood hull no match for its teeth.

'Keep going. Just… keep climbing.' He steadied his mind for what felt like the tenth time this day, slowly ascending the last twenty feet towards the monster's head.

The fleet was taking a beating; two of its dreadnoughts were at the bottom of the sea, the rest were targeted by the Leviathan who was unrelenting in its assault. From the Serpent Horns, Motoi and the others watched, marveling at the Leviathan; a Mother has not been seen in the last three hundred years. The paylangi, as they called them, finally enabled this glorious event by cleaning the waters around their home, but it appears they were not ready to face one of Nagakabouros' greatest testers.

"Motoi, should we leave? The battle goes ill for the paylangi, it seems." One of the other priests asked. Motoi just stood his ground, cape billowing behind him from the wind, yet his stance and vision undeterred. If this was Nagakbouros' will, he would see it done, no matter which way it went.

"I'm staying. Do what you want." The old caller stood up a bit more upright, taking in the sights, smells and sounds of the great battle. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity; despite others' claims, Nagakabouros was generous to those that followed it, provided they knew how to take what the god offered.

"We can't hold out much longer, captain! She's ripping everything apart!" The First Mate yelled out, barely holding the rudder still.

"Aye, we have no choice, it seems... All hands! Prepare the-" Lemmy began shouting, but as he watched the Leviathan, lightning flashed, revealing a lone figure climbing for the head. Lemmy's mind processed the image; the Demacian was alive and going for the head. There was hope yet.

"Keep the ship steady. We need the Breaker." He turned solemn, yet smiling.

"What?! But captain-!"

"DO AS I SAY!" He bellowed, running below deck. Within seconds, the bow jaws of the ship opened, revealing a massive cannon, its metal decorated with many carvings. Lemmy and his crew were already loading it with a huge cannonball.

Above in the skies, Garen finally reached the top, the Leviathan completely ignoring him in favor of the fleet. He looked down, the bloody and chummed waters illuminated by the fires and lightning flashes, wreckages sinking and screams of battle and horror filling the air. It was a small reflection of war on the sea, caused by one creature. Carefully sliding down the scales, Garen took out his serrated bone sword, measuring the distance from the crown of the head to the eye, marked by the glow. From down below, Lemmy peered from out the opening, the cannon completely shadowing him and loaded with a single shot. The Breaker was the main weapon of the Titan Jaw, a colossal gun meant only for the biggest monsters. It had only been fired two times in its service, going for a third now. He saw Garen at the top, sword drawn and at the ready.

"Aim it, lads and lasses!" Lemmy returned to the hull, helping his crew with the giant wheels as they pushed, aiming the cannon at the Leviathan's throat.

One shot; everyone knew it that was all it would take to end this fight. Everyone also knew that it would be the only shot they had. There was no middle ground with the Leviathan; they would win or they would die. Glory awaited those with legends in their minds, while survival was enough for those fear in their hearts. Lemmy just wanted this over and done with. He lost enough for today. Garen, closing his eyes, took a moment to think of what would happen next. This monster was only one of the many obstacles barring his way home, a home he yearned for more than its hunger and fury, more than the Bilgewatians' greed could consume. He gripped the sword tight, taking one last deep breath before the leap.

Eyes open, he jumped, his homeland's name shouted at the skies, breaking through the sounds of battle below, his hope greater than their desire.

"**DEMACIA!**" The Leviathan's eye couldn't spot him before it was too late; twirling midair, he jabbed the sword directly into the glowing white tip at the top, pulling and sliding down with all his weight. The eye split apart, myriad of colors erupting from the dissipating light as Garen carved it downward, followed by a hue of dark red. The Leviathan roared in pain, raising its tentacles instinctively to destroy the fool who thought he could harm her. Garen's sword reached the bottom eyelid, embedding itself tightly into the flesh. He tried to pry it loose, but the tentacles coming for him caught his attention. Right on top of him, they reared, faster than before, driven by the Leviathan's fury. Before they could get near him, however, hundreds of hooks, big and small fired up in the air, netting and jabbing the tentacles. The fleet still had enough ships to pull of the plan, it seemed. The crews reeled the winches of the harpoons back, struggling to maintain the tentacles in the air. From the center, Lemmy saw it; as the tentacles were pulled apart, a soft fleshy downward line revealed itself beneath the Leviathan's mouth.

One chance, one breath caught between everyone, the storm crashing all of its remaining lightning down and in the middle of it, a monster and a man, caught together and awaiting their fates, all of it broken with one single word.

"_**FIRE!**_" Lemmy used up all the air in his lungs in that one command.

A deep boom echoed through the darkness, hues of red and orange marking its beginning. The Titan Jaw reeled back, knocking its crew of their feet from the force. Metal pierced air… and then flesh. The cannonball tore through the throat, goring the insides and bursting out of the back, flying through the air and landing out in the open water, crushing every fish that wasn't fast enough to escape its shadow. Garen was knocked loose, dropping into the water beneath like he was a cannonball himself, his iron armor weighing him down. The sharks scattered, frightened away by the boom of the cannon, giving him ample room to rip his armor off and start swimming towards the surface. Even through the waves, he could hear it.

A savage roar, fading out slowly, drowned in blood, metal and sea water. Tentacles slowly descending down into the water, their fury soothed by one last dying breath… four orbs of light dimming, glimpses of colors in all of them reaching out into the darkness one last time… all culminating in one final fall, creating a great wave that washed away the grime of battle, wreckage, corpses and blood swept away in one wave and given to seas, as was rightfully theirs. The rain was subsiding, clouds giving way to tiny rays of light, their small reflections shining across the water's surface. In one moment, all was peaceful.

Every soul that was left alive looked at the Mother Leviathan; what was once grand and beautiful was now a carcass. It was now their prize. From the island, Motoi and the priests said a silent prayer of gratitude to Nagakabouros before descending down the rocks to rejoin the fleet. As realization finally set it, a cheer erupted, then another, then five more…

Cries of relief, happiness and victory filled the air. Lemmy allowed himself a small smile, while Garen swam to the Titan Jaw, climbing aboard its deck to be met with cheers, pats and weapons raised in the sky, those who knew his name chanting with the rest following suit. He didn't care much for revelry, having been the center of it many times, but he understood why people did it. Just this once, he would be their symbol of joy. He raised his sword, a cry of victory accompanying it, elevating the chants and cheers even further.

The battle was over. On this day, man triumphed over monster.

* * *

Bilgewater was on edge; the final sounds of the battle, the cannon and the last roar echoed through the air. From her mansion, Sarah watched westward, twirling her guns anxiously.

"You weren't this alarmed since the last Harrowing." Rafen came up behind her, hand on his sword. He shared the feeling, it seemed.

"Hey, if you know what the hell that was, you're welcome to assuage me." Sarah let out some her frustration in the form of sarcasm. She knew Rafen didn't mind, but she still felt bad afterwards.

"You're right. Sorry. I just-" Rafen began, but Sarah cut him off.

"Don't. _I'm_ sorry, Raf. It's just… Well, everything's changed, y'know? I thought making this city better would lessen problems, not make different ones. First the old gangs, then the Bloodharbor murders and now whatever the hell _that_ was…" She pointed out to the direction of the roar.

"I don't think this place _wants_ to settle down sometimes…" She sounded tired all of a sudden. Rafen knew the upset of power would take its toll on her, but he didn't expect it this soon. Luckily, he'd seen this kind of thing in people before.

"That's what it'll always be, Sarah. You know that. Best we can do is fight off the old ways, make better ones and ensure the next generation follows them until they are ready to make their own." Rafen reiterated her own goal to her. She had grown, from that dour young girl filled with desire and vengeance to a capable and tested leader ready to lay down her life for all she held dear. The growth was sudden, however, and she wasn't used to the jading and the wearing out.

"I love it when you repeat my words like some schoolboy." She teased, smile returned on her face.

"Wow… I put my heart into my consoling and instead of tasting and savouring it carefully, you just pick it up and gnaw it to pieces." He would not be outdone in that department, not even by his captain. The small, hearty laugh they shared reminded them why they stuck together, despite their arguments and disagreements.

"A girl's gotta eat, Raf. Need that strength to fight of idiots, dead men walking, specters and sea monsters, y'know?" She put away her guns, sitting on her table with her feet up.

"True, but a down-to-earth, reasonable First Mate to steer her clear of death and unwanted attention helps too." Rafen joined her. She slowly turned fervent after hearing that.

"It's gonna kill you one day. You know that, right?" Men like him were sorely needed in this city; she was lucky he preferred women like her. Unfortunately there weren't many, in both regards.

"We all gotta die of something, captain. Might as well be of what we want." Rafen smiled, telling her that this was his choice, not hers. She could accept it or reject it, but it was his. He raised his fist, pointing it to her.

"Until world's ending, remember?" He reminded her.

"Until world's ending." She met his fist with her own.

* * *

"Irelia! Slow down, will ya?!" Fizz, even with all his acrobatics and speed, had a hard time catching up to the girl rushing to the slaughter docks. The heard the noises as well, desperate for answers. They would be hard to find, it seemed; when they arrived at the docks, the whole place was scattering, machines being prepped, couriers being given letters and dockhands moving carcasses and remains, clearing a path.

"Whoa… They're busy, all of a sudden." Fizz captained the S.S. Obvious for now, but Irelia paid the yordle little attention, running off towards the nearest person in charge, Fizz following behind with rolling eyes. Luck was with her, it seemed; Gaston, the treasurer Garen and her met two days ago, was at the docks, observing his investments and making sure they went to right places and the right buyers. He had the same look as everyone else however, worried and on edge.

"Excuse me. Sir Gaston." He recognized the Ionian's voice, raising his head from his ledger.

"Ah, the Ionian girl. Good job with the teeth, but you seem one short. Where's- Wait, what is that blue _devil_ doing here?" Gaston spotted Fizz.

"Easy there, cueballhead. I'm with her." Fizz and Gaston spoke to each other with a tone that implied history, but Irelia had no time for it.

"I'm sorry to bring him here, sir Gaston and I'm sorry for interrupting, Fizz. I need to know what is happening here. That sound before… Fizz here told me it was something called a 'Mother Leviathan'. Do you know what that is?" Irelia asked. Hundreds of thoughts passed through her mind, but she had enough control to know where to start.

"A what? That's impossible. Mother Leviathans are gone, haven't been seen in the Isles for at least three hundred years. Do yourself a favor, lassie, and get rid of him. He'll only tell you lies." Gaston pointed a sneering gaze at Fizz, who pointed back with his trident.

"Lies?! What do you know of the ocean's depths, you chum bucket? You can't even breathe underwater." Fizz shot back. Irelia wanted to stop the argument, but a horn sound from the docks did it for her. Another was sounded and another one after that. The entire city was anxious, people moving through the commotion, pockets left unchecked yet unpicked, purses untouched, coin uncounted, weapons holstered and brawling stopped. Irelia, Gaston and Fizz stepped outside, following everyone to Bilgewater's main bay harbour. Finding a high enough spot thanks to Gaston, they observed the fleet, setting sun behind it bathing it in light and the waters in bright orange. Both were blotted out by the shadow of the carcass being trawled behind by every single vessel, the enormous chains weighing them down. The cityfolk stared in awe of the beast, never having witnessed something too big for the slaughter docks before. The blood of the Leviathan poured out from its pierced throat, colouring the bay bright red. The flesh, however, was untouched by decay and rot, only the small predators nibbling on the chunks breaking off from the throat. As the fleet moored, the carcass floated to a still halt, a monument to Bilgewater's way of life.

From her mansion, Sarah and Rafen observed the spectacle, Rafen uttering two words in the appropriately disbelieving tone.

"Holy shit…"

"A Mother Leviathan… I thought they were just bedtime stories…" Sarah couldn't believe it herself. Awe gave way to eagerness and curiosity as she took her guns and tricorne, rushing out from the mansion with Rafen following close behind.

Irelia and Gaston were now pushing their way towards the bay harbour, Fizz expertly weaving through the rooftops of the shanties above them. They reached the harbour gates, already crowding with butchers, merchants, dockhands, mercenaries and even a few captains. Offers were being shouted, tales told and recounted, prices offered and parts demanded for the titanic beast, despite it being just brought in.

"Greed works fast, if nothing else." Irelia commented, making no effort to mask her disgust.

"The prize is bigger than the whole damn city, lassie. Everyone wants a piece of it." Gaston explained, it doing nothing to assuage Irelia. Hanging from one of the signs, Fizz observed the beast; Chomper was never going to believe it, Fizz himself not being sure it was real as well. He knew of the Mother Leviathans, ancient and powerful matrons of the oceans, but he had only ever heard their calls on the calmest of moonlit nights, when the waves were the smoothest. Sometimes they lulled him to sleep and other times they made him anxious with their foreboding ripples. Chomper told him that even the dragon-sharks fear them greatly, warning him to never seek them out.

'Glad I listened to him on _that_…' Fizz eyed the dead monster, a part of him shaking from the sight. He brushed it off, spotting Irelia in the crowd and jumping from head to head, leaving curses and profanities behind him with a sly smile while cruising toward his friend.

The Titan Jaw docked, the brow fully extended as the survivors came down to the docks, the three Serpent Callers following behind. Even though the sun was setting, the bay was awake now more than ever, small ships hard at work picking the throat, carvers with leather suits descending deep into the opening to cut and dig out whatever looked valuable from the innards and makeshift harvesting rigs being constructed on the outer body. Nobody gave them any orders, but the people of Bilgewater always knew what to do when it came to sea monsters, occasionally even pooling their greed and desires into one single pile with a purpose.

Irelia moved through the flow of the docks, reaching the brow of the Titan Jaw. Searching through faces, her own grew worried as she couldn't spot Garen.

"Looking for your boy, lassie?" Lemmy's gruff voice came from behind her. She turned hopeful, receiving a finger pointed at ship's deck in return. From the deck, Garen descended down the brow, his feet finally glad to be on solid ground. He took in the fresh air and let it out, as if cleaning away all the brine and filth away. He looked around, spotting Lemmy pointing at him… and a very familiar smiling face, now approaching him. Irelia stood in front of him, crest lowered and arms crossed.

"Judging by that dirty leather vest of yours, you managed to make it through the day without throwing yourself in the sea. Consider me impressed, lady Xan." He greeted her with a tease.

"And you're reeking of bile, brine and fish. Consider me revolted, mr. Hero." These sarcasm competitions of theirs were starting to become endearing to her. Her smile, however, turned slightly brighter.

"Welcome back, Garen."

"Good to see you too, Irelia."

At the end of the day, he kept his promise to her. That's all that mattered for them in this moment.

"Yo! Irelia!" A familiar raspy voice called out to her, its little blue owner hopping over to the pair.

"Fizz! Where did you run off to?" Irelia petted the yordle, who just showed his toothy smile. Garen, on the other hand, was dumbfounded by the creature, now turning its eyes to him.

"I'm guessing you're Garen. My name's Fizz." It introduced itself to him, extending a hand. Unsure of what to do next, Garen looked to Irelia, who motioned him to shake the creature's hand.

"I, uh… am pleased to meet you, Fizz." He took the handshake, leaving his hand a little more liquid than before. He couldn't help but stare curiously at the creature.

"Uh… Irelia? Does he usually do that?" Fizz noticed Garen's stare.

"My apologies, Fizz, but I've never seen a creature such as you before." Garen recovered from his trance of curiosity.

"You've never seen a yordle before? Eh, can't say I blame ya. Not many of my kind left and those that are usually don't venture out too far from their homes." Fizz shrugged at Garen's obliviousness, it not being really his fault.

"You're a… yordle? I thought they were just myths…" Garen's interest was sparked yet again.

"Nope. I'm as real as they get." The blue yordle proclaimed proudly, demonstrating his acrobatics by vaulting on his trident.

"So I see… Well, as long as Irelia doesn't mind, we have room for one more… provided you don't cause us trouble, Fizz." Garen proposed, turning serious.

"That's kinda hard to promise, but what's easy to promise is that I'll try." Fizz counter-offered.

Before Garen could agree, shouts were heard from behind them, a small ship docking the bay with people shouting out for Lemmy. The monster hunter left for the ship, his day getting a bit longer.

"You guys wanna go see or do we just go somewhere else?" Fizz asked the duo, who eyed each other with the same question.

"I think I can stay to help a bit more, but if you don't want to…" Garen suggested to Irelia, but she just shrugged.

"Right now, I'm just glad we are back within reach of each other. I'll stick with you." Irelia gave him a nod of approval.

"And what about you, Fizz?" It felt strange to accept the creature so easily, but Irelia's trust in him was all the assurance he needed for now.

"Sounds like it might be fun. Who knows, right?" Fizz kicked his trident upward, grabbing as it came down and stood at the ready with a grin. Garen, decision made and his companions behind it, headed in Lemmy's direction.

The trio reached the vessel, a small commotion already built up. They weaved through the crowd, reaching the center to find Lemmy, Motoi, the two priests and large chest in the middle of it all. The chest was decorated with carvings similar to those of Nagakabouros, its steel seams gleaming in the setting sun. The most peculiar thing on it was the lock; it had a golden base with a circular carving, its edges decorated with seams of ruby. There was no keyhole, only a large X in the middle of it.

"Lemmy? What is this?" Garen asked.

"Dunno. The lads found it the stomach of the Leviathan. Apparently, the fluids couldn't melt it, so we dragged it out here." Lemmy shrugged.

"We can't get it open, though. Tried prying it off, shooting the lock… Nothing worked. Shame… who knows what goodies are inside." One of the sailors recounted their attempts.

"You paylangi and your guns… It's a seal. You need the right key to get it open." Motoi chimed in, shoving everyone aside and inspecting the lock.

"It looks like a simple lock, but with a specific key. Unless it's the right one, it won't open at all." Motoi concluded his analysis, making everyone groan in frustration. Garen and Irelia looked at each other, confusion and question between them. From beneath them, Fizz jumped over to the center, turning the atmosphere wary.

"Fizz… Oh, just what we need. What are you doing here, you fishy rascal? I told you we wouldn't tolerate any-" Lemmy began, but Fizz cut him off.

"Lay off, sharkhead. I just wanna look at it. Maybe I can open it for you guys." Fizz sweetened the proverbial deal. Lemmy looked at Motoi, who nodded, knowing the creature's antics. Fizz looked at the seal carefully for a few moments.

"Well?"

"Hmmmm… Nope, don't know how." Fizz concluded in an anticlimactic fashion, making everyone go back to groaning. Irelia and Garen approached the lock, keeling down to inspect it as well.

"Wait… I recognize the carvings…" Irelia looked at the lines in the gold. The design was familiar to her from somewhere, but she couldn't fathom from where. The X in the middle of the lock jogged her mind enough.

"Hold on a second… T-That's it! Fizz, the thingy! The thing!" Irelia lit up in realization, startling Garen and Fizz.

"Uh, what are you on about?" Fizz asked confused. Irelia pulled out the strange golden disc that Fizz gave her as a thank you gift.

"Where did you find that?" Motoi asked, but Irelia ignored him in her excitement, trying to figure out how to use it on the lock. The X obviously went in the other, but how did the carvings feature into it? Beside her, Garen observed the pattern, detecting a match in the lines.

"Try turning the disc left after you put it in." As curious as he was as to how Irelia got a hold of that little golden plate, he was even more curious as to whether or not it unlocked it. Irelia put the disc with the ruby X on top of the other X and then turned a half-circle to the left. A click was heard, followed by eight more sequential ones, unlocking the entire chest. Everyone looked at the chest and then the pair, who looked at each other with curio, expectance and a little excitement.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Open it. Nagakabouros gave it to you two." Motoi sounded impatient.

"I don't know about that, octopus guy, but I think they should open it together." Fizz chimed in with a smile.

"Hmmm… Well, you found the key." Garen suggested.

"You killed the monster with the chest in it." Irelia countered. It was settled; they would open it together. They pushed the lid, slowly and carefully sliding their fingers underneath it and then shoving it open all the way. Golden light shone out from the chest, the coins blinding the others with their reflections like a lover's caress for their eyes. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds, topazes, amethysts and garnets stuck out of the pile, inviting everyone's hands to reach for them. Garen and Irelia, however, were looking at the middle of the chest; a pair of strange gauntlets stood upright, their steel worn but still shining and adorned with spikes on the back. Only Irelia could sense it, but they radiated strange energies. They were meant for much bigger hands than theirs, though.

"Bless my shaved head… Are those what I think they are…?" Lemmy stared in awe. Beside him, Motoi took a closer look, confirming it for himself.

"That they are, Lemmy."

"What? What are these gauntlets?" Garen asked.

"Long before any of us here were born, there lived a great hunter on the Isles. His name was Sterak, a giant of a man, some say imbued with the strength of a leviathan. Others say he was a servant of Nagakabouros, having gained its gifts through constant self-imposed challenges. Whatever the truth surrounding the origin of his might, it was all channelled through a gauntlet he wore, the one on the left. He carried no weapons, only using his own fists, natural strength and that gauntlet." Motoi recounted one of Bilgewater's more famed legends.

"The one on the right is a twin, forged out of components from distant lands, yet with the exact same strength amplifying effect. No monster could stand up against the mighty Sterak, or so it was said." Motoi leaned in to take a closer look.

"What happened to him?" Irelia asked.

"No one knows. Some tales tell of him having left for the north to fight monsters from the beyond. Others say he still prowls the seas in search of worthy foes. And some tales tell he met his end in time's embrace, having defeated all he could defeat." Motoi inspected the gauntlets, nodding to himself and to the others.

"I don't believe it… Sterak's Gage…" Lemmy spoke the name almost in reverence. For someone like him to revere something spoke volumes about the prize they just discovered.

"Indeed." Motoi reached out to touch the gauntlet, but a strange force prevented him from making contact, as if the gauntlet itself refused him.

"It's… not letting you touch it." Lemmy commented, but Motoi ignored him, trying to connect the pieces.

"You there. Ionian girl."

"How did you know I was from-"

"Where did you find the key?" Motoi was more insistent this time around.

"Fizz helped me find. It was inside a dragon-shark's intestines." Irelia recounted how the key came into her possession. Fizz just nodded to confirm the tale.

"And you, boy. I saw you on top of the Mother Leviathan. You played the crucial role in bringing it down…" Motoi connected the pieces together.

"I see… so it shall be, then. You two." He pointed to Garen and Irelia.

"You slew the monster that held the chest while you found the key to unlocking it. The gauntlets did not let me touch them because they aren't rightfully mine. Sterak's Fists… now belong to you two." Motoi proclaimed. Everyone murmured among each other while Garen and Irelia looked at each other and then their 'prize', unsure of whether or not they should claim it. Garen never put much trust in magic, especially if it involved his personal gear and protection and the gauntlets were clearly magical in nature. Irelia didn't like the looks of them, heavy and encumbering to a dancer.

"I don't know…" Garen started.

"Yeah, me neither." Irelia finished.

"The sea gave you these, you fetchers. You have more than earned them. Take them out and be done with it, otherwise they'll just wash away somewhere else and who knows how long it's gonna take to find them again. It's not like you two have any gear of real value, anyway." Lemmy 'encouraged' them to take the gauntlets, with murmurs of approval from the crew backing him. Irelia took offense to her crest being 'of little value', but let it slide; it appeared that claiming spoils wasn't just for the greedy in Bilgewater. Did their god truly gift them or was it all a giant coincidence? It seemed too strange, the reveal that there are forces of truth and just earning in a place like this. Garen simply shrugged, not too eager to anger his employers or their religious people and then dealing with their repercussions, the former out of necessity and the latter out of annoyance.

"Very well. Irelia, which one do you want, the left or the right?" He asked.

"Either's fine with me. You should take the left one, seeing as how you're right-hand dominant. It could serve as a shield of a sort and keep your good hand free, unless you want the other one." Irelia suggested. He would be taking the original gauntlet, something he wasn't too comfortable with. The more ancient power was, the greater its influence. Still, he could discard it whenever he wanted… or so he hoped.

"Right, then. I'll grab the left, you take the right."

"After you."

"No. Together." He spoke, an affirmation to both their plights and her feelings; if they would make it through Bilgewater, they would do so together.

"Got it." Her smile acknowledged it.

They took out the gauntlets at the same time, undeterred by the same force that pushed Motoi away. Moving them to their respective hands, they shared a look before putting them on. They felt nothing change.

"Strange… I don't feel different. Are you sure the legend-" Garen began, but the gauntlet began glowing a dim red light. The metal slowly began shifting, forming properly and comfortably around his arm. Irelia's gauntlet did the same, taking on a lithe form, the spikes transforming into sharpened scales and the weight slowly reducing itself. Garen was ready to rip it off, but it settled.

"Uh… do the stories say they can do that?" Irelia asked, unsure of what to make of what just happened. Just then, both of them felt a surge of power through their bodies, strengthening their fortitude as well as their strength.

"Whoa!"

"Yeah, that was… something else." Garen commented. He didn't trust magical artifacts, but he couldn't deny the gauntlet's effectiveness, especially the feeling of being able to take on an entire army, shatter a mountain or punch a dragon in the face. He reeled it in, reason breaking through the power-drunk outpouring and telling him that the might wasn't his but the gauntlet's.

"I feel… like a goddess. I mean, I know I'm not one, but still…" Irelia, on the other hand, was more sensitive to the effects. She still managed to take control of it, but it still gave Garen an uneasy feeling. She noticed it too, judging by the worried expression and light embarrassed blush.

"I'm sorry. I'm fine, it was just startling." She reassured him, Garen seeing the control in her eyes and nodding in understanding.

"Welp, now I have another story for Chomper. You two still staying here? How about we go find some other artifacts? I know this place just off the southern coast-" Fizz began, but Irelia stopped him with a pat on his head.

"We appreciate it, Fizz, but one treasure of legends is enough for me for one day… or ever."

"For me as well. That being said, captain Lemmy, I assume I am relieved?" Garen asked.

"Aye, laddie. In fact, as soon as I'm done here, I'll get Gaston and we'll go over your debts. Beast this big is bound to bring in more for everybody and you did better than most. See you later, you two." Lemmy bid them farewell as the duo, now with a blue yordle in toll, headed back to the Gurgling Gator.

"Now then… you and me have some alone time, darling. Let's see what else you're hiding." Lemmy turned to the Leviathan's corpse. Before he could return to work, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Lemmy, a word?" Motoi requested. The old Caller wore a serious expression, something that Lemmy knew from experience couldn't be ignored. They went over to the dockmaster's cabin, a quaint hovel decorated with trophies, a table with maps of the Serpent Isles strewn across and liquor cabinet, which no person in power would be caught dead without.

"What's this about then, Motoi?"

"Those two… where did they come from? Demacia and Ionia are on the opposite sides of the world. How did those two end up here together?" Motoi wasted no time getting to the point.

"Funny story, actually. They're escapees from Noxus, by which they were captured. Apparently, they were on death row, but broke free during their execution and fought their way through Noxus Prime, stowing away on one of our ships and ending up here." Lemmy recounted the duo's story and arrival in Bilgewater.

"They escaped Noxus… well, that's something…" Though he didn't look or sound it, Lemmy could tell Motoi was impressed.

"What's it you, though? Is this about Sterak's Fists?"

"More than that, old friend. I didn't tell you, but when I first saw the boy, I felt something shift in the winds. When he climbed up on the Mother Leviathan, fearlessly engaging it, I knew right then and there that he was someone of great importance. Very few of those kinds of people left on the Isles… and then there's the girl. She befriended a yordle without effort, and not just any yordle, but the Tidal Trickster himself. She has strange mind powers, at least over her crest, and has a peculiar aura on her, one of unyielding will. They're special, Lemmy. I know it." He had a look of purpose on his face.

"What are you planning, Motoi?" Lemmy asked with uncertainty; a purposeful look in a Caller's face was a coin flip as it would either be boon or curse for those caught in it.

"… Illaoi needs to be told of them."

A Mother Leviathan, a homeless yordle, a treasure of a great hunter and now the Kraken Priestess herself. It seemed Nagakabouros was only starting to test the Demacian soldier and the Ionian dancer.


	5. Bilgewater - What one has

**Bilgewater Part III – What one has**

The rising sun's rays shone brightly on the bay, at least in the parts they could reach. The Mother Leviathan's corpse, now a third of it picked apart, was blocking them from fully illuminating the city. The tail of the beast was chained to the bottom of the bay, to pick it apart more easily and for its bones to stand as a monument once the city was done with its meat. The profit made from the parts brought in more in a day than all the slaughter docks made in a year… and that was only a third of the beast.

"Eight hundred thirty four souls for this… Is it really worth its weight in gold?" Lemmy asked, twirling his harpoon. Beside him, Gaston wrote the daily quotas of each part's profits, satisfied with the numbers.

"More than worth it… but it's not the gold that's on your mind, is it?" Gaston knew the loss of his men affected Lemmy more than most. He valued the lives of those under his command and although he wasn't a fervent believer in Nagakabouros, he respected the god's teachings.

"I gave the order, Gaston. I knew the risks and they knew what they signed on for. A monster hunter's life is hard and short, but it's also plentiful, depending on what you value. Nowadays, though… with every catch getting bigger and bigger… I don't know, chum." Lemmy voiced his doubts. He had seen more than his fair share of death, both of men and monsters. The last battle, however, gave him a new perspective of his job and his life. Monster hunts were becoming more and more challenging, even for seasoned harpooners such as himself.

"We simply have to move with the flow, old buddy. Or do you want to be called Lemmy Four-Deaths?" Gaston jabbed him about his nickname. Thrice-Killed Lemmy was named such for his three near-death experiences, one against a berserker shark, the second with a bad rope line and a steep cliff and last against a krakenwyrm with a meaner temper than most of his kind. Other sailors joked about how he died and then came back to life each time, crowning him with the nickname.

"No, thank you. Three deaths are quite enough. Don't want to try my luck with a fourth." Lemmy concluded. His eyes caught a tri-mast war galleon entering the harbor, the familiar sabre bow and dark red hull marking the arrival of Mylene, the commodore of the mercenary fleets. The Storm Blade, her personal warship, embodied everything she was; big as she needed to be, faster than a dragon-shark and armed with almost every armament she could hold. As it docked, Mylene met her two partners on the pier.

"I see you two you have been busy… I mean, wow…" She commented, first time seeing the Mother Leviathan's corpse due to her patrolling the northwestern perimeter for the last five days.

"Beautiful, ain't she?" Lemmy admired the catch.

"That, and _big_. Seriously, what did it take to bring this bitch down?" Mylene asked.

"A lot of blood, a well-placed shot and one brave Demacian lad." Lemmy gave her the shortest version of the battle. At the mention of the Demacian, Mylene turned a bit dour.

"Mylie? What's wrong, girl?" Gaston noticed.

"I bring news from the west. It concerns our Demacian friend." Mylene told them.

"Bad?"

"Something like that. I better go. Sarah and the others are waiting. Keep it up, you old rats." Mylene said her goodbyes and ran off to Sarah's mansion.

* * *

Irelia watched the people from of the balconies on Miss Fortune's mansion, admiring their tenacity to survive, though she didn't approve of the methods. Kindness was strangely absent from the flow, the beggars and little orphans down below rarely receiving any alms, instead opting to pick pockets and scavenge the lowest waterways for food, usually in the form of rats. Seeing things like that made her grateful for all she had now. It also made her scared of losing it.

Despite their developing friendship, she still kept some of her feelings hidden from Garen, particularly the feeling of guilt. She still couldn't bring herself to tell him that she felt responsible for his predicament in fear of his reaction. Despite his demeanor and general helpfulness, Fizz didn't seem like the sort to share this kind of issue with and their employers would only encourage her or not listen to her at all. She felt alone all of a sudden, the winds, splashing of waves and warmth of the sun her only company. It was normal to be alone as well, something she had forgotten. It was the reason it was affecting her so much in this moment.

"Sightseeing?" Garen's voice snapped her out of it, his footsteps approaching behind her. She turned to face him, back in his 'charming corsair' attire.

"A little. Despite the grime and greed, Bilgewater has its charms, few as they are. Its people are capable of appreciating life, just not in the quantity and quality they should." Irelia commented.

"They are out here all alone, surrounded by water and sea monsters. To them, death is simply a commodity they have to handle as best they can." Garen made his own observations. The hunt and battle against the Leviathan gave him deeper insight on how the harshness of life shaped tradition and change in Bilgewater. They didn't have near-unlimited natural resources like Demacia did so they had to take whatever they found floating on the seas, adapting it and repurposing it for their own needs and in their own ways.

"Even though not all make it through the ocean's brutal and chaotic nature, those who do find greater appreciation for what they have. A pity they often desire more, though. It's like they don't understand the concept of satisfaction." Irelia mentioned the more unscrupulous aspects of Bilgewater society.

"It's like… a vicious cycle for them. Someone strikes lucky then someone else sees what they got and tries to do the same thing. If they do, they go for more. If they don't, they try and kill the one who got lucky to take what they got. Then someone else sees _them_ and… it's almost pointless. You forget why you were doing what you were doing in the first place." Garen demonstrated his understanding of Bilgewater's vices. There was audible disapproval in his voice, both caught and understood by Irelia. The callings of fortune in this place had a way of drawing you in, deeper and deeper into the darkness until nothing of your former self remained.

"Although… not everyone lets their greed rule them. Lemmy seems to enjoy the thrill of the hunt, whereas Velvet just wants to run her establishments properly without it getting taken over by gangs. Gaston likes money a bit too much, yes, but he also sees to it they go where they belong, which is to those who have earned them. And then… there's Fizz." Garen spoke about his employers, stopping at the yordle. He still had trouble wrapping his whole head around the existence of yordles, but Fizz was real and he was as peculiar as they came, at least to him. From what he learned, the locals had differing opinions on him, ranging from cute to mischievous to downright destructive and dangerous. Fizz didn't deny any of these when asked, making Garen slightly more concerned about the company he kept.

"He's not like anything else I have seen, even back home. Still, he is better than most of the folk around here. If you make the effort to get to know him better, he's quite friendly." Irelia gave her thoughts on their yordle companion.

"Which, unfortunately, is a rare occasion around here. Everyone just wants to make a quick profit, spend it, go home and then do it all again the next morning. If only they realized there are things more valuable than gold, maybe this city would become better than it is now." Irelia summed it up.

"And if everyone here were capable of saying that sentence instead of scrounging around for scraps of food, we wouldn't have to resort to 'vicious' and 'unscrupulous' methods of survival." Sarah's voice turned their attention.

"You two and your silver spoons… But you've made more progress in adapting to our ways than most outsiders in the amount of time you've been here. I'll let it slide this time." Sarah joined the duo on the balcony, deciding to take Rafen's advice and enjoy her accomplishments for at least one day. Today, however, was not that day.

"Sarah, a word? You two as well." Mylene found her, calling all of them back inside. They went back in, comfy pillowed chairs, four clean glasses and a choice of Bilgewater's finest liquors awaiting them. Garen, Sarah and Mylene took a sip of rum while Irelia only had a glass of water.

"Ah… now that pleasure's out of the way, let's get back to business. Mylene, what do you have for us?" Sarah asked, feet on the table and tricorne off.

"First, the good news. The northeastern routes are cleared of Noxian vessels, they having been recalled to different waters. Our Ionian friend over there has a clear path at going home, when her debts are cleared with us, of course." Mylene reported the situation. Irelia's happiness almost radiated out of her, but it was dimmed by Mylene's next words.

"However, it could be awhile before any of our ships sail to Ionia. There aren't any coming in from there either. Trade with your nation has been… difficult. Understandable, given recent events, but it will still make your trip home take a while longer." Mylene explained. Irelia simply nodded, happiness lessened but still firmly rooted.

"Now for the bad news. The northwestern and western waters are under complete jurisdiction and lockdown of the Noxian Navy. They have every vessel available out looking for you two. Therefore…" Mylene hesistated, but Garen finished the sentence for her, grim and sorrowful.

"My way home is blocked…" He surmised. Irelia's happiness was suddenly gone, replaced by worry.

"That can't be… isn't there some other way?" She asked very insistently.

"The only other way for him is through the southwest, but that's Shurima's jungles. He won't survive out there alone and I don't think any captain's crazy enough to sail there. Everyone that's ever set foot in those jungles has never come back." Mylene laid it out. There were very little options for him and none of them were good.

"Well… can't you sneak him through? Smuggle him?" Irelia pushed on anyway.

"After that black eye you gave them, the Noxians have doubled down on security. No one goes through without a thorough check and the appropriate clearances. So no, we can't." Mylene concluded. The room grew tense, dourness and despair slowly seeping in through the minds of the duo and in the air. Garen's thoughts were all over the place; what would he do now? Where would he go? Would he stay here? Should he try his luck in any of the routes or just give up?

What was left for him now?

His head needed fresh air… badly. He got up, grabbing his sword and left without a word.

"Garen. Hey!" Irelia called out to him, to no avail. Without thinking or even excusing herself, she ran after him, meeting and employers forgotten. Mylene wanted to go after them as well, but Sarah stopped her.

"Let it go, Mylie."

"But Sarah, they-"

"-won't cause any trouble. And if trouble finds them, they can handle it." Sarah assuaged her commodore's concerns. Mylene looked at the disappearing figures of the duo.

"I don't get it. They should've expected this. Noxus doesn't take kindly to being defeated, especially by its two sworn enemies. I understand the Demacian's feelings, but why is the Ionian so concerned with him?" Mylene asked her. Sarah just shook her head; despite her combat and tactical skills, Mylene still had trouble understanding people.

"Because they aren't that different, Mylie."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean they're both stubborn, have a lot of spunk, their wills are unbreakable, their ideals are near-identical… and they miss their homes greatly. But…" Sarah explained what she saw in both visitors, hesitating at the end.

"But what?"

"They don't tell each other that. They think they don't need to, but sometimes those feelings need to get out through words, not nods and smiles." Sarah surmised, having been in a similar situation with Rafen before. She recognized the same stubbornness the few times she talked to them together, seeing their interactions and personalities. They weren't even aware how much similar they sounded or how relaxed they were in each other's company. Maybe it was strange to the common world-aware person, seeing a Demacian and an Ionian being friends, but Sarah knew that people were a lot more than their nations or their origins. The one other Demacian she had contact with taught her that. She suddenly found herself wondering what happened to him, that lone Purifier who chased after the ghosts of his past, not knowing he headed into a shadowy and uncertain future.

"Think they ever will?" Mylene brought her back to reality.

"We'll see. For now, let's get back to work. I need to check up the investigation, anyways." Sarah got up and holstered her guns.

"The Bloodharbor murders?" Mylene asked.

"Yep. Seems it started spreading, though. Rat Town is now caught in them as well." Sarah put on her tricorne and headed out.

* * *

Pacing through the people and the streets, Garen felt directionless. The few days he was here, he remembered every one of the city's districts with help from the others, but now they felt unknown and completely different, like a labyrinth meant to confuse him with same-looking walls and corners. The people felt distant, despite him weaving his way through them, occasionally giving a light push. He didn't care whether it bothered them anymore. Orphans, beggars, pickpockets and thieves were intimidated by his look and demeanor, wisely choosing not to approach him. Even the common folk who spotted him chose to get out of his way in an unusual display of fear from the city's standard fare of greed, challenge and opportunity. One person wasn't, though, fearlessly and stalwartly chasing after him.

"Garen! Hey! Slow down!" Irelia kept going, struggling to keep pace with his strides. He heard her, but his mind was too muddled to acknowledge her. It eventually burned out and cleared, him having stopped in front of a gateway. He didn't bother to look up at the words on its boards, too exhausted from everything. Irelia caught up with him, breathless from the chase.

"How… are you… this fast…and not tired…?" She spoke between breaths, glad to finally get air in her lungs and let her legs rest. He ignored her, leaning on one of the gate's posts, slowly sliding down until he was sitting, head hung and hands crossed. Irelia went over to him, but her mind was just as muddled. What should she say to him? What sort of comfort would break him out of this stupor?

"Garen… I know it looks bad, but… you can't give up. There might be other ways." She sat next to him. He didn't look up, leaving her in the dark about what his emotions were. She had seen this too many times back home, people almost inconsolable and unable to get up. She would have to tread carefully, but with the state he was in, it seemed near impossible not to upset him. Even with the commotion from the city and the people, there was a heavy silence surrounding them, as if they were separated from the entire world. It weighed down on both of them, especially Irelia, who couldn't risk speaking in fear of starting a fire inside Garen's weakened mind.

"All that work… for nothing…" Garen finally made a sound and although it was filled with despair, she was glad he was at least talking.

"No. You settled your debts. You cleared that obstacle. This is just another one." She was trying to find some way to carefully spark that flame of hope she'd seen so many times in his eyes. Now, those same eyes wouldn't even look at her.

"An entire empire blocking my way home… You're right. That is quite the obstacle." He sounded tired all of a sudden. He finally raised his head, his blue eyes dull and his lips straight. A little spark appeared in them, whether it was from the sun's rays or from within his soul, she couldn't tell, but it made her glad it was finally there.

"What are you doing here, Irelia?" It wasn't sarcastic, nor was it venomous. It was just a question, making it sound stranger in her ears.

"What are you talking about? We said we'd stick together, remember?" Despite his demeanor, she kept pushing. Slowly but surely, the spark in his eyes grew brighter. She still couldn't identify his emotions, however. He turned to her, expression still unreadable, distant traces of sorrow still drawn over it.

"You finally have a way home, Irelia. You should be making sure it's still available to you." That sentence gave her a light shove. She was slowly becoming erratic.

"What are you saying?" She began pressing further, her mind slowly loosening her grip on her emotions.

"You heard the others. Our debts are almost squared. You need to find a ship that will take you to Ionia." He kept pushing, his face slowly revealing sadness, trying desperately to form a smile, but to no avail.

"I know that, but-"

"Your goal is in reach. You shouldn't be hesitating and-"

"Will you stop it?" She said that a bit more forcefully. He was taken aback by it, surprise overshadowing sorrow.

"I want to help you, you oaf. You shoving me away with well-wishing is _not_ making that easier. I know exactly how you feel. Your home isn't the only in turmoil, you know. I want to return to mine as much as you do to yours. But you cannot give up this easily." Irelia was slowly letting her feelings out, fed up with his moping but even more fed up with his pushing away. She saw glimpses of this side of him during his 'execution', but she thought it gone, burned away by his optimism. Maybe she grew too used to his smile; she knew it was a bad idea, not bothering with the excuse of hindsight as it wasn't even applicable here. Something inside her heart wanted to see that smile again, but for what reason she knew not. Garen's expression, however, turned from surprised to displeased.

"An easy sentiment from one whose home is within reach. I'm stuck here, don't you get that?" His tone turned annoyed as well, igniting a fire inside Irelia. After all that, he went defensive?

"Of course I do, you moron! I wouldn't be here otherwise. Haven't you been listening to me?" Their obstinacies finally clashed, neither of them relenting.

"Oh, I've been listening, just not understanding. Nothing of what you said made sense. Our goals have always been the same and yours is almost in your grasp, so why are you wasting your time here?" He turned away again. That was her breaking point.

"Because you're acting like a pigheaded child. Yes, nothing in this city is free, Garen. Not fate, not choice and certainly not your way home. But that doesn't mean you have to accept that. I won't, even if you do." Irelia would not relent. She was slowly accepting that Garen was just as vulnerable to despair as anyone else, but she also saw that he recovered it quicker than everyone else she had met before, yet now he was strangling that ability. It was that very fact that made her both annoyed at his bullheadedness and insistent in her attempts to reach out to him. She would see his old optimistic self return, no matter what.

"Then why? Why are you still here?" He suddenly turned to her. His eyes finally showed his soul, filled with anger, fear, sorrow, anguish, misery. All of them together revealed the true emotion he felt and the one Irelia was hit hardest with.

He was consumed by loneliness.

"Why are you so insistent on staying with me?" Every word stung her… but this kind of pain couldn't be borne by only one person, not even someone as strong as Garen.

'Because you'd be alone.' She wanted to speak, but her mouth wouldn't let the words out.

"Why do you care about a 'pigheaded child' like me?"

'Because you need a helping hand.' She was mentally straining now, trying to utter something through the aura of misery he was radiating.

"Why do you want to put to risk everything you've been working towards just to help me?!"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE MY FRIEND!"

It felt as if Runeterra stopped turning, time completely erased from existence, the stars disappearing from the canvas of the Universe and in the white emptiness, two souls remaining, uncertain of what to do next. Garen felt the walls of depression and wretchedness crumbling, slowly collapsing under beams of light and warmth radiating from the woman next to him. Irelia was surprised of herself, finally baring the surface of her soul. Much of it still remained hidden but it was only the first step, the veil even now gently being lifted by his face clearing of darkness and dejection. She knew that only she could fully reveal her true self to him… and this was the only opportunity to start.

"We've known each other for only a month, Garen. Not a long time to get to know somebody, especially in this place and under the circumstances of our meeting. Throughout our time together, I realized you were a colossally stubborn, by-the-book, infuriating, blindingly lawful and downright moronic man." Irelia numbered his negative traits, eliciting an eyebrow of curiosity from him.

"And throughout that same time, you've also been considerate, emphatic, understanding, helpful and brave. Despite our circumstances, you always stayed faithful to those beliefs and loyal to your principles." She mentioned his positive traits, her face becoming brighter with each one uttered. She turned to him, his own face lit with surprise.

"Having said all that, it honestly amazes me how a person such as you is still functioning normally." She elbowed him lightly, getting a glimpse of the smile she grew to love so much from the corner of his lips.

"And that's why I want you to know that I'm here for you. Even with your strength and courage, you are still human. There's only so much you can take before needing a helping hand." She smiled as well, the world around them returning into existence, sounds and sights slowly filling up their senses. Irelia got up first, extending her hand to him. Garen hesitated at first, looking down at his own. It wasn't the first time he faltered or gave into despair; when Jarvan went missing, it enveloped him, feeling its cold, steely grip for the first time. Just like now, he was unable to escape it on his own, as it took the King's helping hand and the entire kingdom's support to rally him out of it. Irelia did all that with a few truthful words and a hard head that rivaled his own, a fact that didn't escape his thoughts. He looked back at her, her smile and hand patiently awaiting his. He took it, slowly getting up with her help and dusting himself off.

"Irelia, I… Thank you." He didn't know what else to say to her.

"Anytime. Together, remember?" It truly was something he forgot in the moment. She tightened the hold on his hand, getting his attention.

"I'm not leaving this place until I help you find a way, as well. That's my promise to you." He was met with an expression of determination and although he didn't know it, it very much resembled his own.

"That's a pretty big promise for one as short as you." The tease signaled his full return, a fact Irelia took full advantage of.

"Everyone's small compared to you, you overgrown Demacian ape. And I will keep it, if only to prove you wrong." She acted miffed, her smile easily giving her away. Although she pulled him out of his own stupor, Bilgewater was coming down on him with its own.

"It's going to be hard, especially in this place." Garen returned to reality, fully focused on his goal once again.

"I know, but we can pull through. We've gone through worse, you know." Irelia reminded him of their feats in Noxus.

"Yeah. You better return to Fortune, though. She might be getting worried. Not for us, mind you, but for what we might do if unsupervised. I understand her, but I wish she'd trust us a bit more." Garen turned around, walking through the gates.

"Where are you gonna go?" She asked.

"To find some way to get through this. Can't rely on your wilfulness all the time, you know." Garen turned around, the smile back on his face. It reminded her why she valued his friendship... and why she feared losing it. The hesitation was back, crippling her ability to control her emotions and to put her thoughts in order. Should she tell him that it was her actions that trapped him here? Should she explain how her culpability gnawed at her?

"Garen." She called out, but couldn't continue. Her emotions were fighting her fears; the former side wanted to tell him her guilt while the latter argued that it would put their friendship at risk, something she nurtured and treasured since he returned for her back in Noxus. The cobblestone streets seemed really interesting all of a sudden.

"What is it, Irelia?" He turned without pause, ready to help however he could or listen to everything she had to say. Her friend was back to his old self... making fear win this battle.

"It's... I... it's nothing. Just... be careful, all right?" A smile of content and trust was all she could manage. Garen noticed the hesitation, but decided not to press it. She would tell him when she was ready and he was a patient person when it came to his friends.

"I will. Thank you again, Irelia. I'll see you later." He waved and turned, walking with purpose once again. Irelia was left alone with her thoughts, now settled yet resentful of her actions.

'Damn it, Irelia... you're just making it worse.' She sighed at herself, the desire to stab her own foot or smash something extremely fragile growling from beneath her self-deprecation. Seeing there was no point in either of those, she turned and walked in the direction of Miss Fortune's mansion, the sounds of the city drowning out many of her thoughts.

* * *

Garen walked through the dirty streets of Bilgewater's lower sections, a place known to the locals as Rat Town. It was a 'red light district', which Sarah told him it meant it was a place for the more unscrupulous businesses. Indeed, he passed through many shady taverns, gambling dens, shops with questionable items and loud and colorful brothels. The people here weren't anything like the ones on the higher levels; drunks stumbled through the streets, downing their drinks or unloading them off their body in all the possible ways. Brawls erupted wantonly, with profanities being thrown about as much as punches, including the occasional bottle. The taverns were dirtier than the streets, broken windows, dried vomit and liquids on their walls. Courtesans hung around every corner, calling out and tempting anyone who looked in their direction, even the ones that didn't. The atmosphere was suffocating and poisoned with greed, lust and gluttony.

'What am I even doing here?' Garen asked himself the question. Ever since he received the news, he has been wandering randomly around the city, trying to find something or someone to help him on his quest. He told himself it was will to return home, not the dislike for this place that drove him onward, but he wasn't so sure. Bilgewater was like an antithesis of Demacia; everyone here did as they pleased, with no regards for their fellows. When he asked her about it, Sarah told him that betrayals were actually commonplace, which is why everyone was armed. Peace was an enigma here, making him wonder how the place hasn't consumed itself with all the chaos and constant depravity. Maneuvering through the commotion and filth, he found himself in front of a relatively clean tavern, a quaint place called the Retching Rat.

'Charming name...' He thought as he entered the tavern, the sounds and smells slightly overwhelming him. Nobody paid him any mind, the patrons too busy drinking, fighting, scheming, dealing, gambling or passed out on the floors and tables. He found an empty stool in the corner of the counter, eyeing the drinks and trying to decide which one tasted the least bad.

"What'll it be, sonny?" An aging woman called to him, her apron marking her as the bartender.

"That one." Garen pointed to a bottle with a mustached brawler proudly displaying a middle finger.

"Newburry's Gutpunch, coming up." She turned around. Garen observed the tavern; the patrons were nothing special and the decorations were of no interest save for one. Above the entrance stood a circular icon of a strange mustached fish-like face, its teeth showing a twisted smile. It was something similar to the symbol of the Mother Serpent, except this one had human traits; two eyes, lips and the aforementioned moustache.

"First time seeing him, sonny?" The old bartender brought him his drink. Garen couldn't help but feel a bit curious.

"What does it represent?" He asked.

"Not what, sonny. Who. That's Two-Coats."

"Two-Coats?"

"Aye. The River King himself. Ol' Tahm Kench. He's been here long before since any of us were even born. A devil sired out of the muck of the swamps and feeding off of sin itself. Temptation's his thing, y'see. He has a knack for gouging what your lust, your hunger and your appetites are. He'll promise you riches, your every wish fulfilled and you every desire sated, _if_ you make a deal with him. Oh, but make no mistake, sonny. Once all is done with, he'll come for you, taking everything you have and desired and gobbling it up until nothing is left. He only wants to eat, see? And he'll do anything to get to that next meal. I hung that there to remind everyone that comes through that door to never trust him." The bartender told him of the River King. Garen listened, trying to wrap his head around the legend; he knew of the existence of demons for quite some time, having had prior experiences with one during the visit to Fossbarrow. After the investigation of the tomb of his great-grandfather was complete, the researchers concluded that since the demon there couldn't influence any of the townsfolk anymore, it left to seek weaker victims. From the studies, Lux also deduced that demons have to be let in, as she put it, meaning the victim would have to be rendered vulnerable somehow. The Fossbarrow demon did it through the nightmares it implanted in the townsfolk. This River King clearly had some other means... but what were they? Putting it aside for now, he turned to the bartender.

"Peculiar story... assuming it's true, of course." He commented.

"Oh, it's true, sonny. And take it as a lesson; never make a deal with ol' Tahm Kench." She warned him, starting to clean the unbroken glasses. Seeing as he had a few more moments with her, Garen thought it fitting to ask her a few questions.

"Excuse me, madam bartender, but you look like you've seen or heard a few things. Know of any ways out of Bilgewater that don't involve... Noxian or Piltovian customs?" He made it sound as shady as possible without trying to give away his motivations. Luckily, she didn't seem to care about them at all.

"Ah, in trouble with the gangs, are we?"

"Something like that."

"Well sonny, can't say I've heard much, but you might wanna try asking the ones in the back of the tavern. They're smugglers and former pirates that have sailed across muddy waters, if you get me meaning." She nodded towards the corner of her tavern, the people there seemingly in talks with one another. A keen eye such as Garen's could spot the hidden items being delivered under the coats and the tables. He didn't much like it, but Bilgewater had sway over his choices right now.

"Thank you, madam. For the drink and for the tip." He paid a little extra, getting a smile from her in return. He went over to the corner, studying the people on the tables. All of them had a business look, studying him as well. Some were curious while others wary to his approach. He wondered who exactly would be able to help with his goal, who was willing, who was able and who was all three. His ears caught something at that moment, however. It was a hum, deep, melodic and somehow able to be heard through the crowds and the brawls. It was coming from the most secluded corner of the tavern, from a table unlike the rest, where a clean sheet was spread on its surface, a vase with a bouquet in the middle and a glass of wine on one side. A man sat at a clean chair, dressed in a fine grey garb unlike the other ripped clothes everyone else wore. His face was obscured by his top hat, seemingly never bobbing even as he swayed to his own peculiar tune. Garen went over to the table, looming over the man and carefully bending down to see his face. The man looked up, revealing his strange yellow eyes and a well-groomed moustache.

"Oh. Pardon me, boy. Was my tune upsetting? I usually take the corner for myself as not to bother anyone else, but it seems my choice of lounging was inadequate." The man tipped his hat, speaking politely unlike the rest of the people in this part of town.

"Think no ill of it, sir. I was merely curious." Garen straightened up, surprised at the man's demeanor. They both took a moment to study the other from head to toe.

"Forgive my insinuation and curio, but you aren't from around these parts, are you boy? You seem more, how shall I say, sophisticated that most of the folk around here." The man made his observations.

"That is true. I'm a… traveller, shall we say. I hail from Demacia and seek to return there, though my way is blocked…" Garen found himself confessing his predicament, though he found no harm or loss in it.

"Now that is quite the conundrum. I take it you mean travel by sea is cut off?" The man asked.

"Correct."

"Well, the way I see it, and forgive my boldness, you now got a choice. You can stay here or try your luck out there. Both options being on the table for your perusal, I may have a proposal for you." The man's suggestion peaked his interest. He didn't trust any of the people in this part of town, but after the event that took him far away from home and brought him to this place, he could handle a little backstabbing with the appropriate responses.

"What do you have in mind, mister…?"

"Thomas Krane, at your service." The man calling himself Thomas got up and made a courteous bow.

"What is your proposal, mister Krane?" Garen asked.

"I will take you on a tour through Rat Town and present to you the choices you have. Despite its... feculence, it has charms and treasure of all kinds beneath the slime. If you don't find anything I present to your liking, we go our separate ways. All I ask is for a little of your time." Krane suggested. Garen saw no reason to refuse, as it could lead into an opportunity for his escape. At this point, he was ready to try almost anything.

"Sounds reasonable. Very well then, Mr. Krane. I will give you a moment... but only that." Garen made terms of his own. Always good to have a backup in these sorts of deals. Krane simply smiled.

"Perfect. Allow me, mister...?"

"Garen."

"Allow me, sir Garen. I will show you all you need to know about this city's nature and the wonders of opportunity." Thomas Krane put a hand on his back and led him out of the tavern and into the deepest parts of Bilgewater.

* * *

The wharf at Rat Town's south side was brimming with commotion, though it wasn't from trade. The body was first discovered early in the morning, missing three fingers and a leg, carved stem to stern and bled half dry. Rafen was first on the site, having sped there as soon as Velvet told him the news. He was lucky her contacts worked fast this time; the spree of murders usually had no body to trace the connections to a killer. They were methodical, whoever they were. The commotion cleared up a bit as two women passed through the crowd. Arriving on the murder site, Sarah and Mylene greeted the First Mate.

"Keeping busy, Raf?" Mylene asked.

"Always. No rest for the wicked."

"And what about your pal over here? He one of the wicked?" Sarah asked, kneeling to examine the body for herself.

"Dunno. No one really knew the poor bastard. By the roughness of his hands and the calluses on them, he was a harpooner. Guess it doesn't matter now, seeing as how I found nothing connecting him to any of the local gangs, the fisheries, fleet records or anyone who'd want him dead." Rafen explained his findings. Sarah, on the other hand, looked at the cuts more closely. They were made with a jagged razor, but something sharp enough to both get stuck in the flesh and easily release itself from it. Sharkbone blade…

"You said the pattern was unconnected to any of the Rat Town citizens?" Sarah asked, trying to find a thread.

"That's right. Why? What'd you find?" Rafen grew curious at his captain's inquiries. Sarah turned the body over, spotting what she was searching for; a large net hook and a deep stab with downward torn flesh.

"And there it is…"

"What is it, Sarah?"

"It's him…" Sarah got up, brushing herself off and washing away the blood in the canal.

"The Ripper? How many is that now… fifty? Sixty?" Mylene asked.

"Sixty seven. Thirty in Bloodharbor, twelve in the wharfs, ten in Hightown and now fifteen in Rat Town, if we count this one." Rafen surmised.

"But why? First it was captains, then bankers, then merchants and finally business entrepreneurs. Why harpooners, all of a sudden?" Mylene asked, trying to find a pattern in the victims.

"Maybe this one tried stopping him?" Rafen suggested.

"Unlikely. The first hit came from behind, ambushing him. The rest was either a message or catharsis." Sarah concluded.

"Sun's starting to set. Should we stay here or ask around if anyone's seen anything else?" Mylene asked, eager for some action but still ready to follow whatever Sarah's orders were.

"Nah. Even if we were to wrangle some of them, their lips would be sealed tight when it concerns the Ripper. I think we're done here. Besides, our two guests might be back, wondering where we are. We'd better go. Rafen, get the crew to clean up this one. Wharf rats need meat too, right?" Sarah ordered her First Mate, Rafen saluting her with a smile and heading off to work.

"What are we gonna do about them, anyway? The Demacian and the Ionian, I mean." Mylene asked, curious as to what the outcome will be for this situation.

"We'll have to wait on them to make the first move on that. You know how this place is, though. Opportunities are aplenty here. One will eventually hit them in the face." Sarah tried thinking optimistically. In truth, she didn't really know what would become of them. Bad luck was just as aplenty as opportunity here. Maybe she understood their desires more than she thought, her old hopeful side rearing its head. No, no room for that. The only thing that mattered was the course ahead. Before her realism locked it back in the brig of her mind, her hope left her with one last sentiment.

'I hope they both get home. If it was me in their place, I'd be trying my damndest, too.'

* * *

Irelia wandered through the streets of Rat Town, trying to find her bearing. She wanted to head up to the mansion or back to the tavern, but something kept her here. The dirty streets, unscrupulous denizens, questionable establishments and generally uncomfortable atmosphere reminded her of why she didn't want to stay here. It also reminded her of why she didn't want the same for Garen. Her guilt was slowly getting its noose around her mind again and soon after, her other feelings followed.

She always took responsibility for her actions, even for those she wasn't proud of. The hard part came before that, however. Realizing it was always something that was hard for her to get used to. When she first killed a member of the Brotherhood, it sent her mind reeling from the shame and disgrace she felt from killing a fellow Ionian. After a few days of isolation, constant dance practice, self-reminders of the necessity of the kill and one nasty nightmare, she finally came to terms with it. Then came the next one… and the next, and another one after that. Despite their intentions, she ended up as the murderer while they ended up as victims. Her deeds and passions inspired the Brotherhood and their ideals and while she and many others told her that they were incredibly selective in their inspirations, she was still the catalyst, inspiring further bloodshed instead of peace.

Sometimes she wondered if she deserved the fate they wanted for her.

Now that same part of her mind, encouraged by her guilt, returned to haunt her thoughts about Garen.

Was she cursed? Did all her deeds come at the expense of people's lives? Did the same fate await Garen? Would she be able to come terms with it if that happened?

She stopped both her body and her mind, getting her bearings on the two. She was in an abandoned port, houses and boats of broken dry wood littering the area as much as the shattered glass, dusty bones and metal chunks. The sun was almost set, the light illuminating the solitude and sorrow, warmth barred from entering by the port's gloom. For some reason, she found the place peaceful, as if it almost welcomed her melancholy soul. She continued through the dust-covered streets, meandering through abandoned buildings, kicking aside bones and slicing through metal fences. It continued until she ended up at a long pier, its rickety wooden planks creaking even under her light steps. The orange hues of the horizon broke through the distant fogs, dyeing the pier in a soothing glow, the stillness turning from overbearing to embracing.

The waters here were still, profaned with chum and dirt. There were no fish swimming in them or maybe there were but it was too muddy to see them. Wharf rats were few and far between, not even their kind fond of the atmosphere. There was nothing for no one here.

Irelia stood at the edge of the pier's entrance, looking out to the horizon. She didn't know what she was searching for, but anything was better than the answers before her. If hope was anything, however, it was enduring.

She scanned the beach, looking for something. A strange sight caught her eye; on her right, a beached fish was lying on the dirt, mouth open and flesh pale. It looked like it died recently from her distance, leading her to give in to her curiosity and approach the fish. She rounded the fish to its belly, inspecting its body. The blackened scales, the sharp protrusions on the spines, the sharpened fins and the peculiar long jaw all jogged her mind to what Lemmy told her, but she still couldn't believe what was before her.

An infant jaull-fish.

They were incredibly rare in the Isles, having only been seen a handful of times, but here it was, lying before her, corpse slowly decaying into a dead earth. Even when young, jaulls were still bigger than a human, its jaws strong enough to rip through bone. They were open, oozing saliva into the dirt, its teeth sharp and white despite the grime. She eyed the beast, left properly to the elements but no life to grow from it again. Pity returned once again and she touched the scales, feeling the lifelessness and the puncturing holes of a harpoon.

Her memory jogged itself all of a sudden, remembering a certain detail about jaull-fish, particularly their glans. Part of her was appalled at where this thought process was leading, but another part of her reminded her that she was far from Ionia and had to play by different rules. Rules that could give Garen and herself a better shot at going home…

Irelia's crest lowered and split, carving the jawline extra carefully as not to damage the insides too much. She dreaded the next part, but sacrifices had to made, cleanliness usually the first to go. Bracing herself, she reached inside the jaull's mouth, wading through the reeking flesh and saliva until she felt the throat. Guiding one of her blade shards to the side of the jaw, she punctured the jaull's flesh, pushing until she felt it was right above her hand. With a clean motion, she sliced from the inside and gripped the throat until she felt what she hoped would be what she was looking for. She pulled out, a dim blue light slowly emanating from the mouth until she withdrew her hand completely, bile oozing out of it. The glow was entrancing and she felt energy from it, still filled with warmth and a tinge of power. She knew Lemmy told her that infant jaulls still preserve them fresh even after death, but they only had one until they grew out of infancy.

In her hand, Irelia now held one of the most coveted prizes in Bilgewater; a sapphilite sac. Inside it were liquids capable of creating wonders, particularly in the hands of skilled alchemists. To the right people, it would guarantee a way out for both of them. She eyed the jaull, now defiled by her hands. She couldn't help but kneel down, touching it with her free hand.

"I am so sorry… I had no choice. You didn't deserve this, especially not from someone like me." Its death wasn't caused by her, but she had a chance to return it to the waters. She pushed the corpse out of the dirt and into the waters, watching it float for a little until it filled with water, dragging it under the surface.

"This is all I can do for you. I hope the waters do you justice." She said her goodbye and left, soul dimmer but slowly returning the more she eyed the sapphilite sac. That very excitement, however, made her unaware of the presence near the port, slowly lurking into the pier and eyeing the sinking jaull with light blue eyes. It turned to the direction of Irelia, studying her face from the shadows afar.

'She looks familiar…'

* * *

Rat Town was a place that best exemplified Bilgewater's revelries, with taverns and their surroundings in full swing, drinks being spilled as much as insults. Courtesans were tempting patrons, dragging many of them inside brothels or in private areas away from prying eyes. Gambling dens were being filled up, the lucky and the luckless both vying for more and more. Through the merriments and chaos, the vices showed, masked by the intoxicating promises of wealth, higher life and better future. Two men were walking through the air and clamor of desire, greed and drunkenness.

"Look at all of this, boy. This is what Bilgewater truly underneath all the murk and high lives. A place where ambition thrives, encouraged by the self-indulgence of human hunger. That being said, those with enough wits can come out on top, grabbing their deserved fate and fortune." Krane spread his arms in welcome of the aromas of the city. Garen observed him during his speech, deducing that he knew how to read a person or at least the atmosphere.

"I never asked you, sir Krane. What is it you do here?" Garen grew a bit more curious.

"Please, Garen. Formalities are for greetings and introductions. Thomas is the name by which I choose to call myself and a name reserved for all those seeking my favors. But to answer your question, I am an entrepreneur of fine establishments, lucrative business opportunities and scrumptious food. A broad range, as one of your intellect can tell." Thomas explained his profession. He would at least be able to give Garen information, provided he listened to his offers.

"So, I take it you have several proposals for me?" Garen asked.

"Correct. I have three business bids for you. If none of them are to your liking, you may ask a favor of me in order to make up for your time. If the favor is reasonable, I will fulfill it with utmost consideration. Are these terms agreeable for you?" Thomas asked, both of them stopping in front of a tavern. Seeing as how his options were limited yet again, Garen decided to take the risk.

"Very well. I accept."

"Perfect, seeing as how we're ready to begin. This here fine establishment is called Tawny's Tap, a tavern in the eyes of most, but for those such as us there is something more here. Come, follow me." Thomas led him through the drunken roughhousing patrons to the bar counter, where he signaled the bartender, a scarred yet refined and burly gentleman who nodded towards a corner of the tavern where two men awaited, almost as if standing guard. Thomas bowed before them as they moved aside to let them through a concealed door. Garen and Thomas stepped inside a large room with a fight cage, a betting stall and a very loud and thrilled crowd. Two brawlers were in the center of the cage, duking it out ferociously until one of them knocked out the other, sending the crowd into a roar. Garen found the whole thing a bit more than he could tolerate, but Thomas was clapping.

"Congratulations to our winner, eh? This, Garen, is my first offer. Someone of your physique and strength should have no trouble here… provided, of course, that you know how to fight." Thomas pointed to the cage.

"I see no point in this kind of work. I do know how to fight, but I don't pick them." Garen turned to leave, but Thomas stopped him.

"Now hold on, my boy. Why don't you try it out? One match, one round. That's all I ask. If you don't like the taste of it, we will move on." Thomas egged him on. Garen wanted to protest, but showing him and then holding him to his word would be quicker, provided he honored it.

"One." He unbuckled the sheath of his sword and put it down. He then removed Sterak's Gage, leaving it next to the sword.

"Now we're in business. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a challenger!" Thomas shouted to the crowds, who simply cheered even more, wasting no time in placing bets. Garen found the whole chaos strange, but not appealing. All Thomas did was shout, their penchant for violence taking it from there. He didn't have any time as the cage doors opened, his opponent awaiting him inside. He was a stout man with wide arms, hard knuckles and bald head. His eyes were hungry and confident. To a normal bystander, he looked like the winning bet but Garen saw his stature, shoulder muscle and feet. He was just a brawler, with no training or discipline. This was going to be a lot shorter than he previously thought. As the cage doors closed, the announcer bellowed over the crowds.

"Ladies and gentlemen, betting is now closed! Brawlers, get ready!" At the call, the crowds turned to cage, thirst for blood in their eyes and mouths as they cheered expectantly. The fighters stood facing each other, awaiting the call.

"Fight!"

The man rushed Garen, eager to please and win at the same time. Garen noticed his poor stance and unbalanced punch. He waited until he was in reach and ducked beneath the blow, catching his right hook with his left hand. Pulling him back and stepping to the left, he slammed through his right hand with his own, twisting it with a sickening crack and grabbing him by the throat. Once his grip was secure, he lifted his opponent and slammed him down with a deciding knockout. The crowds and Thomas were silent, taking in the abrupt ending. A second later, they erupted once again, the doors opening for the victor while the loser was dragged off.

"Well done, Garen! I must say, fighting is something deeply ingrained in your very soul." Thomas clapped, congratulating him on his victory.

"Fighting must be done with a purpose. These pointless brawls are a nuisance." Garen brushed himself off and retrieved his gear.

"Then listen to this; you could give these fights a true purpose. With the skill and strength you have, you could make a name for yourself as the greatest brawler in Bilgewater… maybe even beyond. And when you rise to the top, the power and respect you would wield and command would get you anything. What do you say, Garen?" Thomas egged him on, grabbing him by the shoulder while dreaming of the glory. Garen just shook his head.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I have a different goal in mind for myself right now."

"I see. Are you sure about this, my boy?"

"I am. In fact, I'd like to leave now, if that's all right with you. This place is becoming… suffocating, all of a sudden." Garen felt the bloodthirsty atmosphere of the arena, eager to leave and breathe in some fresh air.

"No trouble at all. On to the next… and I think you might like this one." Thomas spoke, twirling his hat without loss of enthusiasm.

They exited the tavern, heading deeper into Rat Town. The more he traveled through the place, the more filthy Garen found it.

"Garen, if you don't mind me saying, you said fights needed a purpose. Do you think you can give this city one? A purpose, I mean?" Thomas asked.

"Through fighting? No. Using a purpose to defeat that purpose is something of a paradox. If you try it, you'll just get stuck in it." Garen explained.

"I see… Well said, boy. A pity you're right. This city won't listen to you." Thomas looked lost in thought.

"I don't need it to listen to me. I have my own business here."

"I see. But where we're going, business comes second." Thomas led him at the Alluring Chrysanthemum, a large and fancy brothel. It was already filled to the brim with both patrons and courtesans, the only thing flying more than the noise and lust being the gold. Garen found the entire thing distasteful; places like this only served to starve people under the pretense of satisfying them.

"Mmmm… Smell that, my boy? The scents of frustration, pent up desire and satisfaction? That's the true climax of the human race; we see what we want, we do everything to get it and when we have it, it makes us flare up, only to die out until we spot something else." Thomas described the near-unending cycle of carnality. Garen gave him a look that told him he'd better have a very good reason for bringing him here.

"Thomas! You're early today. What's the occa- oh… Hello there, handsome." A middle-aged refined lady wearing a fancy blue gown, gold-trimmed shoes and carrying a folded hand fan approached them.

"Good evening to you, Lady Jillian. I see you already have your eyes on my companion here. Allow me to make the introductions. Garen, this is Jillian Garth, owner of the Alluring Chrysanthemum. Jillian, this strapping young man is Garen, a traveler from Demacia." Thomas spoke.

"So… is he here for business or pleasure?" Jillian asked.

"Business, therefore we should skip straight to the point. This place is growing in prestige and class… well, what is considered class in Rat Town, anyways." Thomas sat down, followed by Jillian and Garen.

"Right. Therefore, it and my girls need better protection. Customers have been behaving themselves, but the larger we get, the more types we attract. Heh…" Jillian laughed at her own innuendo.

"That's the proposition, my boy. You offer this place protection and in return, besides the usual pay, you get to choose one of my girls, or more of them if that's your fancy. Just… treat them right if you do otherwise you're wharf rat food." Jillian laid out her offer.

"Thanks, but no thanks. While being a protector is what I was born, raised and trained to do, I already have all the coin I need. No offense to your 'workers', but these types of women don't interest me. If that's all, I will take my leave." Garen made it clear in his tone that the decision was final, getting up and walking out without another word.

"Yeesh, Thomas. Where'd you find this kid?"

"He found me. Well, once he does that, his mind's made up. Thanks for the time, Jill."

"Always a pleasure, Tom. Drop by again… and tell the kid he doesn't belong here. He doesn't look like he listens to his loins or his sins." Jillian waved Thomas goodbye, who went outside, rushing after Garen.

"Slow down, my boy. Slow down. I'm sorry if I offended you in any way by bringing you to that place." Thomas politely apologized, his hat off.

"It wasn't you, sir Thomas. Those kinds of places… don't sit well with me. They only prey on people's desires and weaknesses, all the while wearing a mask of satisfactions and promises." Garen confessed. Thomas looked curious yet again, as if pondering his words.

"…You have someone in your heart, don't you boy? Someone who holds part of it? Don't bother lying to me. Only a woman can cause that response about places like that in a man." Thomas egged him on yet again. Garen slowed his stride, hindered by his mind opening a door he thought locked in the darkest corners of it. Images of red hair, green eyes sharper than her daggers and unyielding zeal in every motion flashed before him. Did she really take a part of it that day… or did he give it to her willingly? He couldn't tell the difference anymore.

"I… I used to." Nothing more than memories. It didn't stop him from wishing they were good ones, though. There were a few, but those were nothing more than moments, faded carvings on his mind's stone of remembrance.

"I see… I will not pry further, then. Come, I have one more proposal for you." Thomas led him through the streets down Serpent Alley, a place overflowing with gambling dens and brawls. Some of them weren't even dens; dice were already being thrown down the flat parts of the street, cups being loaded with them or getting shoved into the mouths of people as a means of fighting.

"Ahhh… the fresh air of chance and prospect. This is Serpent Alley, Garen. Here the lucky get luckier while the luckless get devoured by their misfortunes and blindness. The only things that separate those two types are the dice, the chips and the cards. Say what you will about Bilgewater, my boy, but luck holds dominion over this city, not fate. Anyone can try anything, as long as they have the will to throw the dice." Thomas returned once again to his antics of describing amoral places with embellished words. Garen wasn't sure what to think of him, until an opportunity presented itself in the form of the same icon he saw back in the tavern where they met.

"Sir Thomas… do you know that icon?" Garen pointed to the doors of a larger gambling den, the icon of the River King adorned on top of them.

"Of course I know him, my boy. Ol' Tahm Kench, an icon of this city as much as that other god, you know the one… More importantly, he is someone I consider a muse." Thomas said, peaking Garen's interest.

"What do you mean? Do you worship him?"

"Oh dear me, no. I do find him to be a bit misunderstood, however. Many think he is an opportunistic charlatan, but I say different. I think he is a symbol. A symbol of what we truly are underneath all the pomp, pageantry and chest-pumping. In a way, he is all of us… and we are all him, or what we could be." Thomas made the remark almost in reverence, despite his disclaims of worship.

"Ah, but I could go on for hours about both him and this city. How's about I show you the final offer instead?" Thomas led him to a gathering crowd around a dice table, the little numbered squares already being rolled and people losing and gaining coin from them.

"What do you say to a throw?"

"Just one?" Garen asked.

"Of course. I know how you work, my boy. Just one is all you need." Thomas said, hands raised in understanding. Garen approached the table, the dice keeper already handing him the dice. All he needed to do was see him approach and the dice and one Silver Serpent were already in his hand, no questions asked. All of these things, the brawling, the whoring, the drinking and the gambling were like breathing to these people. Deep down, it disgusted him, his mind focusing only on rolling the dice and leaving. He shook them once, throwing them out, getting two sixes.

"A win for chin-boy!" The dice master cheered, others either cheering with him or booing. The one Silver Serpent became ten.

'Chin-boy? Really?' They also weren't very creative.

"Another throw? You seem like the lucky sort." The dice master took the dice, holding them out to Garen.

"No, thanks. I'm not that lucky." He declined, leaving the crowd disappointed. He returned to Thomas, looking at him with a decisive gaze. Thomas simply nodded, leaving the crowd along with Garen.

"So… none of them were to your taste. It appears, my boy, that Jillian was right about you." Thomas turned to him.

"What about me?" Garen asked.

"You don't belong here, in any way or form. You will never be a part of Bilgewater, despite its offers. A pity, since it seemed you could adapt to them quite easily." Thomas twirled his mustache in curiosity.

"That I know how they work doesn't mean I would choose them. I told you, I'm only looking for a way home." Garen repeated his goal.

"A way home… through the Noxian blockade, correct?" Thomas asked, eyeing Garen with a glint in his yellow eyes.

"How did you know?"

"Oh come now, boy. I'm not a simpleton. You're from Demacia, a land far to the west separated from Bilgewater by Noxus. Of course you'd be looking for a way past it, since your kingdom and that empire don't like each other." Thomas took a little offense to that one, but still kept the politeness going.

"And what if I tell you… I know of a way to do it?" That one peaked interest.

"What do you mean? There is a way?" Garen stepped lightly, knowing to take offers like this with a pinch of salt.

"There is and only I know of it. But… for someone like you, that might be difficult."

"Why?"

"It involves magic."

And there's the catch. The gauntlet was one thing, but he wasn't so sure on staking his entire goal on the vagaries of magic. The crookedness of this place, however, made him reconsider that stance. If Thomas turned out to be telling the truth, would he accept it? It was definitely worth leaving this place, though.

"Well, you did say you would do me a favor if I refused all three offers." Garen conceded.

"That I did, boy. Follow me and stay close, now. Where we're going, no one can follow." Thomas led him through the crowds and streets outside of Rat Town, into the swamps of the Isles.

* * *

The abandoned buildings looked strangely oppressive in the dimming sun and rising dark, giving Irelia a strange sense of foreboding. The sapphilite sac glowed lightly and warmly, providing her with bodily comfort along with a mental one. She sauntered through the empty streets, following the wharf to the end of a rock formation that separated it from the rest of the bay. The noises from the workers and butchers carving the Mother Leviathan were heard even from here. She looked for a way to scale it, seeing as it was a shortcut; she was strangely eager to return to her friends today. That eagerness was tempered down when she found only smooth rocks and restive waves crashing against them. Another way barred, but no loss of enthusiasm. She turned around, walking back to wharf and climbed on the pier to get a better look at her way back. In the darkness, however, something stared back. Two lights, teal and pale, lit up. She noticed them, squinting to get a better look in the encroaching darkness. To her anxiousness, they began moving toward her, the darkness behind seemingly moving with them. The wind was gone and the only noise was that of the waves, which slowly began dying out. The lights of the stars were gone, slowly smothered by grey clouds. Something inside Irelia started begging her to move her legs, but she held her ground. The crest was tingling, as if agreeing with the feeling, but Irelia brought it under control. All but her will was on edge, the lights now slowing down and stopping ten meters in front of her. It was then that the darkness retreated, revealing they were eyes, belonging to a masked face. The man slowly crept out of the dark, revealing his brown-grey scarred skin, his shark jaw pauldrons, dark green coat and brown boots. Even in the dark, Irelia could see they were somewhat wet, but what truly tensed her muscles was the sharkbone harpoon hook. It was a large blade, serrated and dripping with saltwater, mixed with a little blood to form a bright hue of red. His mask was decorated with teeth, red as the blood the blade was mixed with and seemingly melded with his gaze… which was filled with pure murderous intent. There was something else there, though. A slight touch of confusion…

"You… I know your face…" His voice was deep and raspy, as if he was talking with water in his throat. It somehow made him seem even more dangerous. Irelia slowly began taking her stance, observing the man carefully. There was something unnatural about him, even though every motion he made was human, from the way he pointed his harpoon to the way he walked… and the way he walked was that of a hunter that found his prey.

"Name." He stopped eight meters in front of her.

"What? Who are-"

"Your name. Give me your name." Even through the glow, his eyes seemed impatient.

"You first." She stood her ground.

"You got until the end of the pier to tell me your name." He slowly began approaching, boots flopping water on the planks with each drenched step, harpoon held in reverse with a tight grip. She split her crest abruptly, making him stop and take a small step back. Whatever he was, he felt fear. It somewhat comforted her in this situation.

"What makes you think I'll move?" She was fully in her stance, arm stretched out and a shard at its side. They eyed each other, studying stances and reactions. The man crouched with his harpoon behind him.

"This." He suddenly dashed with supernatural speed toward her, making Irelia bring down her shards in defense. His harpoon clashed with them, but he slid past her, bracing himself to a halt with his free hand. Irelia turned to him, but noticed a strange trail of water, lingering in the air around him. She then heard a whooshing noise behind her, as if a wave of water suddenly sprouted from the land. She turned, spotting it too late; the watery phantom crashed into her, making her lose balance and knocking her down, her hand keeping her from fully hitting the wooden boards. She had little time to recover as she heard those wet boots sprinting toward her. She barely brought her shards up to block the harpoon, the steel grinding against the sharkbone. With a sudden heave of strength, she pushed him out, the man carving to a halt through the planks with his harpoon.

"Who are you?" She called out.

"Huh… no wonder you seem familiar. You upper-class vultures never bothered remembering our names. Oh, but sure… everyone remembers yours. Everyone forgets it was our hands that all the work, though. _My_ hands!" He suddenly shouted, making his eyes flare up, dying down as her took his stance again.

"No one remembers Pyke…" He grew angrier.

"Pyke? Is that your name?" She asked uncertain.

"Don't pretend you don't know me! I sure as salt know you… I know you were there… On the Terror… Those blades…" The man calling himself Pyke eyed her crest, his eyes flaring up yet again, in realization this time.

"Those blades… They cut my line. _YOU_ cut my line." He pointed the harpoon at her.

"One last time, woman. What is your name?" He made it clear it was the last time he was asking that question.

"If it helps you remember that I have never seen you before in my life, my name is Irelia Xan." She answered, hoping to clear at least something up with the man. He took out a list made of strange paper with many names written in Bilgewatian on it, almost all of them crossed out. He searched for something on that list, his eyes wildly scanning the names.

"No… Impossible… I could've sworn I…" He searched for her name. She was sure of it. Just as she thought it was nothing more than a misunderstanding, his eyes stopped, looking at the top of the list. It was right there at the top… How did he miss it? He started from the top, but didn't see her name, yet here it was, bright as a devil shark's lightbulb.

Irelia Xan. Captain.

Captain… How? How did he miss a captain's name? Must have scribbled it with a different ink…

"Irelia Xan. You were the captain, weren't you?"

"What? What are you talking abo-" Before she could utter anything more, he turned the list, letting her see her own name.

"But… I've never seen you before in my entire life, nor have I ever captained a ship. I've only been in Bilgewater for a couple of weeks and-"

"Yeah, yeah. Everyone's ass can crap out excuses and the ones a captain makes are exceptionally reeking." He was done listening. He sharpened his harpoon on his pauldron and crouched again, ready to attack.

"For the last time, Pyke, I'm not whoever you think I am." One last effort to dissuade him, but she was willing to take it.

"Don't matter anymore. That little sac you got there proves it. You stole that, didn't you? Just like every other greedy bastard in this rathole of a city… You people never learn. At least fish don't care about gold." He eyed the sapphilite sac strapped on her belt. Irelia slowly began connecting the pieces; drowned man, dead jaull-fish, the sac, Pyke's motives and speech patterns, fish not caring about greed…

Whoever he used to be, he didn't belong to Bilgewater anymore. He belonged to the sea now… and it was trying to punish her, or at least something out there was.

Maybe this is what she deserved and fate had served her just course…

And yet it wasn't fair. She didn't belong here. Garen didn't belong here. They were both leaving here, one way or another. Neither of them would be just another body in Bilgewater's gutters. Her blades flared to life once again, ready to make that wish a reality.

"Then let me offer a final warning, Pyke. Leave now and I won't turn your body parts into ribbons." She issued her warning. It was up to him now.

"Huh… first time a captain's ever stood their ground… Don't matter. Your corpse is going to the swimming city either way." He crouched again, signaling his decision to her.

"Let's see what you got, 'captain'." He dashed towards her again, her blades violently clashing with his harpoon, echoing in the silence and sparks briefly illuminating the smothering darkness. Out in the darkened waters, a lone shark fin appeared above the water, quickly swimming away towards the bay.

* * *

The swamps of Bilgewater were strangely soothing, despite the muck, blood-drinking and flesh-eating insects, poisonous plants and reeking odor. It was difficult trudging through the mud, but Garen made the effort, the swamps testing his endurance and senses just as much as the Leviathan tested his resolve. Thomas seemed unhindered, though, traipsing merrily in front of him and humming his tune, despite wearing that fancy outfit. In fact, Garen never saw it get dirty once. Was he used to the swamp's dangers, knowing them enough to be carefree or was there something else to it?

"It's not much further now, my boy. Just past this bent of reed here." Thomas pointed it out, turning towards a small river, the fog above it illuminated by the entrancing glow of the insects that danced above it. Among their golden glows was another, one not belonging to an insect or anything living. Reaching the river bend, Garen and Thomas looked around, only one of them sure of what he was searching for.

"Now where did I leave it… Ah, there it is." Thomas pointed to the blue glow, motioning Garen to follow. The followed the river bend downstream until they came up to a small dock, a single rowboat with a blue-glowing lantern tied to it. Garen looked at the boat, wondering how long did it float there, untouched by the swamp's whims and dangers. Thomas walked over to the dock, removing his hat and breathing in.

"Ah… that scent of mysticism… Oh, pardon my manners, my boy. I completely overlooked your unique stance on the subject. Now, before we continue, I want to assure you that this kind of magic is completely harmless to your being." Thomas turned to him.

"And what kind of magic is this, exactly?" Garen felt it was better to be cautious.

"This boat is enchanted, my boy. It has the power to take you to anywhere the water flows and hide you from the dangers of the world. Now, I have no use for it, seeing as how I don't need to go anywhere with its help, but you have different plans and troubles. This is my offer to you, Garen. This boat will take you past the Noxian blockade while concealing you from anything that might detect you, be it sight, smell, sound or even magic. Be warned that once you leave the boat, it will disappear so tread carefully or should I say, hold tight once you're on it." Thomas explained.

"So all I have to do is get on the boat and never leave until I arrive wherever I want to be?" Garen asked for confirmation.

"That is correct… Though, if you don't mind me asking, why go home directly? Why not make a few stops along the way?" Thomas said with a strange glint in his eye.

"What are you talking about?"

"My boy, from the moment I saw you, I knew you were someone different from the rest of the rabble here, pardon my language. There's an air of uniqueness and mystery about you, both combining into an exquisite combination of taste. I thought to myself 'Thomas, why stand in the way of greatness? Why not help him along his way?' So I brought you here not to help you get home, but to help you reach your destination. And you have a long journey ahead of you." Thomas suddenly grew confident and sincere, speaking with a tone of certainty unlike any he used before.

"What do you mean, my destiny? I just want to return to Demacia." Garen answered back. A deeper part of him was unsure about this claim, however.

"Come now, my boy. As I said before, I'm no simpleton. Your strength is unlike any other on this world. There are many foes to defeat with it, including the empire which now threatens your kingdom. That boat can take you to where your strength is best used, including your enemies' weak spots." Thomas was gaining steam, every word made in both egotism and sense. The deeper part of Garen responsible for the doubt began liking the sound of it, but he still managed to rein it in.

"But why stop there? You have someone you want to see, don't you? This boat can take you to her, boy. Why subsist on pain when you can satisfy your desire by whisking her away with you?" Thomas kept going, making Garen stop on that one. After all they did to hurt each other, would that be even possible? He didn't even look her when he knocked her out back in Noxus. His mind was having trouble keeping the images of her out, though. Admittedly, they both just… left things up in the air. Would she want to mend things with him? Would it just be a bandage over a gaping wound?

"I… I don't know…" He was at a loss for words.

"Well I do, my boy. Your sharp mind does, too. You just need listen to it and your path will unfold like a lifting fog revealing a sunny day. You know you've got the will and now I have provided you with the means. What do you say, Garen? Ready to make the world a better place for you and your kingdom? Ready to be together with the one you love?" Thomas extended a hand toward him, inviting him to his destiny. Everything was here waiting for him. He only had to take it. There was nothing for him back in Bilgewater, only decay, greed and chaos. His hand slowly began rising up to his, ready to accept and leave forever. Home was close. Victory was close. He would finally be together… with…

Together…

With… his friend…

Irelia. She would be alone. He would be leaving her in this despicable place.

'**No**. Not after all she did for me.'

His thoughts suddenly began clearing up, free from the hazes of the swamp and his own desires. His hand was frozen in place, slowly retracting down before it even reached Thomas' own, him standing with a confused look on his face.

"What's the matter, my boy? Don't tell me you're having second thoughts?" Thomas asked, impatience seasoning his voice almost unnoticeably. Garen was quick on the intake of that change, sensing that something became off. Why was Thomas so intent on helping after all that? No one gave away so much as a penny in Bilgewater, so why did he bother so much? He asked for nothing in return… only a few moments of his time…

The icon… The places he was lead to… Thomas Krane…

It was slowly starting to make sense. The hunch was there and now all he had to do was to confirm it or rather, get someone else to do it for him… which was the person right in front of him.

"Before I do all that, sir Thomas, tell me… what do I have to give in return?" It was a simple question.

"My boy, you have nothing on you that I need. I'm telling, this is my favor, from me to you." Thomas acted patient, but the pique was slowly becoming evident with every word he spoke.

"Wrong, sir Thomas. Everyone has something to give and in Bilgewater, as you so know, nothing is free. Not fate, not choice and certainly not life. Do you remember what you asked when we first met? 'A moment of my time', if you don't recall. That is what I have, sir Thomas. Time, the most precious and valuable thing on this world, especially for someone in my position." Garen explained, taking notice of Thomas' confused expression, slowly turning nettled.

"Are you suggesting I want something inside you, boy? Because your play on words is interesting, but it leads nowhere." And with that, all the puzzle pieces were on the table. Now it was up to Garen to piece it together and he knew just where to start.

"I've been wondering all this time about something you said when we talked. In our conversation about the icon, you called the River King and entrepreneur, just like yourself. What I neglected to mention, sir Krane, was that I spoke to a few others about him, as well. None of them spoke of reverence, only of temptation and preying on their desires. I didn't know what to think of your comment at first, but now I do." Garen slowly reached for the grip of his sword. He looked Thomas straight in the eyes, blue clashing with yellow in a suddenly quieting swamp.

"So I will ask you again. What do I have to give to you in return, Thomas Krane…"

Opportunistic charlatan, indeed.

"… or should I call you… Tahm Kench?"

The swap grew deathly silent and still, the colorful glowing insects scurried away, the reeds and plants shying away from the sky in favor of the ground. All that remained in the fog was a blue lantern tied to a boat and two beings staring each other down.

It was broken by a deep laugh, supported by an escalating clapping.

Thomas' voice was turning deeper with every cackle. Suddenly his skin turned slime-grey and smooth, almost frog-like. His mustache elongated from his face, turning the same as his skin. His body began bloating, nearly tearing off his coat and suddenly revealing another one underneath, both stretched to near-ripping. His mouth turned enormous, rows of sharp teeth protruding from his lips. The only thing that remained unchanged was his hat, now sitting comfortably atop his catfish head, the two suits struggling to envelop his enormous toad-like frame, leaving his tiny clapping hands and legs out, along with a tail peeking out from beneath the rear of the suits.

In front of Garen now stood the River King, in all his endowed and gluttonous glory.

"Well done, child. I must admit, the way you broke free from your own self-indulgence fed by the sheer vexations of Bilgewater's finest dens of depravity was beyond compare. I salute you, sir Garen." The River King tipped his hat to Garen and his deeds, bowing slightly with a toothy smile on his cavernous mouth, his voice deeper than the swamp's waters but no less congratulant.

"Still patronizing me, demon? I thought you were above the rest of rabble, as you put it." Garen's hand never left the grip of his sword, nor did his eyes look away from the River King's gaze. Despite his schemes being ousted, he was still a dangerous creature and not to be taken lightly. Tahm simply twirled his hat back on top of his head and adjusted his outer coat.

"Well, even if one has no bait, one can still cast a line and hope, right?" He said, his toothy smile somehow growing wider. Garen, however, relaxed the grip on the sword, hand lowered down.

"Are you sure that's wise, my boy?" Tahm tried his luck, but Garen was no longer fooled.

"You can't harm me even if you wanted to. I know how your kind works, demon. The previous visits to those places were a means of probing me for weaknesses, weren't they? And it all culminated in this moment, a moment of weakness and submission to desire. Had I given you what you wanted, which was my time and my own need, you would've very likely had a way inside my soul. But I digress, River King, as I'm sure you didn't come for a lesson on your own ineptitude to claim a simple meal." Garen decided to speak boldly, as it knew it would upset Tahm. True enough, the smile turned straight, his teeth begging to tear into his flesh.

"Tread lightly, boy. I have other ways to traverse the world of desire." Tahm simply warned him, licking his mouth once to return the smile.

"But even I have to admit defeat. How did you do it though, boy? How did you manage to snap out of my allure?" The River King was genuinely interested. Garen knew it wasn't a trap; from his studies and help with Lux, he was able to ascertain that demons themselves have a single glaring vulnerability; positive emotions. He wondered if Tahm would understand if he told him.

"Simple, River King. It was empathy… for a friend that would never leave me and tried to pull me out of my misery, whereas you only fed it more." Garen tried anyway.

"Empathy!? Disgusting! Ah, but oh well. Even the best courses will go stale if left out too long." The way he recoiled when he mentioned that word showed he truly didn't understand. Despite the embellished words, he only saw food in humans and their suffering. In a strange sense, he pitied existences like his, despite their clear dangers.

"A shame, my boy. You could've had everything you've wanted." Tahm snatched up the boat with his massive tongue, swallowing it whole without any of the wood cracking.

"But I would've lost what I already had. Which reminds me… I've wasted enough time here. If our business here is done, Tahm, I'll be on my way." Garen turned to leave, a single sentence from the River King serving as a farewell.

"Oh, as long you hold your desires close to your heart, my boy, I'll hear them. All you need do is simply call my name. The world's one river and I am its King. I'll come, don't you worry. Farewell, Garen." With a final chuckle, he dove into the swamp with a massive splash, the water subsiding along with him. The liveliness of the swamp returned, the insects fluttering yet again while plants greeted the fog with newfound bravery. Garen knew the way out, but the encounter left him with a strange sense of foreboding. It was dark out and approaching midnight. Irelia and the others would be getting worried.

Without another word, he hurried out of the swamp and back into Rat Town, newfound courage and tale to tell driving him onward.

* * *

Clash after clash of blade on sharkbone, Pyke and Irelia dueled on the pier, probing the other for weaknesses. A slice from Pyke, an intercept from Irelia, the battle felt like an eternity for them, while in reality only a few minutes passed. A sudden thrust of the harpoon from Pyke made Irelia retract her crest to block it, only for him to dash across her, the same watery phantom behind him. Having no time to dodge, she simply split her blades into a defensive formation around her, the whirling force absorbing the impact and almost dissolving the phantom when it came charging toward her. Pyke's sudden surprise left him open to her next move; as she held the formation, the blades accumulated strength, enough to pierce through any guard. She quickly realigned the formation outward, sending them towards Pyke, who barely dodged out of the way. As he staggered, Irelia rushed him, slashing at him repeatedly until he could no longer hold his ground. In that moment, she went for his arm, slicing the upper wrist and making him drop the harpoon. In that instant, she brought her blades to her and thrust forward, piercing him through the shoulder, liver and stomach, the other shards going for his extremities.

"Huh… urgh… not bad…" He managed to let out a breath before Irelia withdrew her blades and kicked him off the pier, sending him to the water with a splash. Taking a breath to steady herself and gather her stamina, she looked to the darkened waters. She couldn't spot the eerie glow anywhere, although the absence of blood unnerved her. Was his body already in the mouth of some sea beast? Or was it something else? She checked every part of her body for cuts and injuries, her eyes finally stopping at the sapphilite sac. She had to hurry or the others might be getting worried.

"But not good enough!" The sudden torrent of water shooting upwards barely gave her enough time to dodge the incoming harpoon, now embedded in the wood. When it splashed on the planks, Pyke was standing there, cracking his shoulders and eyeing her with renewed vigor and pulled out blade. Irelia just stared at him, unable to process what she saw; despite her seeing and feeling the blades enter his flesh, he had no scratch on him. She caught sight of his slashed wrist, appalled at what she witnessed.

"You… you bleed… sa-?"

"Saltwater, yeah. Convenient, ain't it? Helps me hunt down the lot of you greedy assholes. Unlike me, you need more of that blood in your fat carcasses and unlike me, you can't breathe underwater." He sharpened his harpoon on his shoulder pad, ready to charge her yet again. Irelia readied herself, her blades split and thirsty.

"Saltwater or blood, I can do this all night." She taunted, making sure her eyes relayed she wasn't joking. Pyke held back on his attack, measuring her up; her movements were fluid and deadly and she didn't waste them. Those blades of her were deadly… He didn't remember them being this deadly… Her face and those blades being there that day was all that mattered for him now. That and that strange metal glove she had on. He could something shimmering from it, but couldn't tell what it was with all the stabbing and slashing.

"Yeah, yeah. You captains all talk big, but when it comes time to swim those promises out, you sink faster than an anchor with barnacles on it." He nevertheless readied himself. Unlike these untested, unsalted land walkers, he learned from past experiences. His eyes lit up slightly and he moved his left hand in front of him. She stood there like chum bait, like they all do.

"But you're forgetting on thing, captain." Pyke saw the fins, quietly circling Irelia's position beneath the planks.

"And what's that?" Her attention was focused on him. Now was the time.

"You're on my turf now… and I don't fight alone."

He waved downward. At the signal, a large jaull-fish leapt from the water, jaws open and hungering for flesh. It caught Irelia off-guard, her blades scrambling to form a defensive formation around her. At the same time, she heard Pyke dash toward her, harpoon pointed at her spine. She had nowhere to go, breath caught in her throat, eyes on the incoming jaws of death and ears alarmed by the terrifyingly fast drowned phantom rushing at her back, legs rooted by fear and feet lead. Mind in disarray, her pulsing heart took over, guiding her blades to block the harpoon while she raised her right hand, adorned with the enchanted metal gauntlet. They were both on her in an instant; the jaull-fish snapping its jaws on her arm and Pyke stabbing her defensive formation. And in that same breath, the gauntlet began radiating.

A sudden force radiated outward from it, pushing both Pyke and the jaull-fish away, the drowned man barely holding his footing from the shockwave and the surprise while the beast splashed down, although not before slashing at Irelia's right tendon with its razor tail. She staggered, eyeing the cut; it wasn't deep but it would seriously cripple her movements. She didn't have time to rip a piece of her clothes to patch it up as Pyke was already on his feet with the jaull-fish also splashing about to regain its sense of direction.

"Got some tricks up that sleeve, do ya? Don't matter none. You'll be underwater soon. That cut don't look too good, huh?" Pyke slowly approached, confident in his stride and harpoon behind his arm. Irelia looked around her; the pier was cut off, the jaull-fish circled behind her and out in the distance, she spotted a shark fin. Water meant only death for her. She looked in the direction of her assailant; not only did he block her way, but also the planks connecting the pier were also destroyed. She had no way out… except to fight. She steeled her will, looking at the gauntlet; it granted her a temporary reprieve, but it had exhausted its magic. It was returning, but it wouldn't get here in time with the short amount her hunters had given her. She steadied her mind, her blades forming up on her in an offensive formation; she would fight her fate and she would not sink, forgotten by everyone.

She still needed to say those words to her friend… and that was enough to drive her heart forward.

Pyke noticed something change in her eyes, the sudden flickering of magic in her blades confirming that. She was unlike any other captain he hunted down. Still bled like a rat, though… A captain's a captain, no matter how much they thrash or kick. Greed would always be part of them. He enjoyed his new job, particularly his new bosses. Not only did they not care about the gold he got, but they also gave him a partner. What better partner than a hardened killer such as himself? Now all that was left was to gut the wench in front of him and move on to the next… There would always be a next. Greed never dies, that much he knew.

"If you got any last words, captain, save 'em. I'll forget them anyway." Pyke readied himself, left hand outstretched and harpoon at the ready. The jaull-fish circled Irelia's position, the blood on its razor tail giving it a scent of her and it smelled delicious. Irelia stood ready despite her injury; she would not be able to move, but she was not defenseless. Her blades formed around her, covering every angle. She opened her eyes, defiance staring back at murder just like she did with all those who would harm her or her home.

"Then come and get me."

"Now those words I might not forget." He waved downward and dashed. The jaull-fish leapt at his signal, jaws eager to be drenched in Irelia's flesh and blood, Pyke eager to cross out another captain of the list. Another breath caught, this time with purpose. She breathed out as they both descended on her, blades converging equally on both. She braced herself for the impact, will steady and instincts strong.

All three found themselves surprised when a huge dragon-shark leapt out of the water, clamping its jaws around the jaull-fish and dragging it under the water, making it squirm for life.

"What the hell-!" Pyke took the brunt of the surprise, but found his tendon cut off and bleeding saltwater. He gripped it, looking around for the assailant. It wasn't Irelia; as much as her focus was on him, she still had no time to react or reach him.

"Leave her alone, jerk." A small, raspy voice to his left alerted him. As he turned around, a trident prong whacked him in the face, disorienting him briefly as a breeze of wind passed above him. He got his bearing, eyeing the small blue creature that now stood between him and Irelia.

"Fizz?!" The surprise was evident in Irelia's voice as much as the relief and happiness.

"Chomper saw you fighting this guy and told me. We came as soon as we could. Don't worry, Irelia. We got your back." Fizz twirled his trident, pointing it at Pyke.

"I'm only gonna repeat this once, you walking saltwater sphincter. Leave her alone and let us go." Irelia didn't even need to look at him to imagine the expression. Fizz was angry, something uncharacteristic for him. In this moment, it didn't matter; one of her friends was here. She wasted no time in ripping her sleeve off and tending to her wound.

"What are you supposed to be, some kind of shark-man offspring abandoned for being too ugly?" Pyke eyed his new opponent, never having seen his likes before. Fizz gripped his trident tighter.

"Nope. I'm just a yordle who's gonna take down an idiot for attacking his friend." He threatened him, the tip of the trident glowing with a dim, deep blue hue.

"Fine, then. Might as well add 'yordle' to my list of kills, anyway." Pyke ignored the pain in his leg, readying his harpoon for another fight. Before he could react, the yordle already dashed to him, cutting up his cheek. He kept pressing the attack, putting Pyke on the defensive as he struggled to dodge thrust after thrust, each aimed at vital parts of his body. The moment he saw an opening, he swung his harpoon at the yordle's head, who only jumped up on his trident. Pyke kicked the trident from under him, only getting a massive splash in return which knocked him off his feet.

"That never gets old." The yordle laughed at him. It started irritating him. Without another breath, he lunged forward at the creature, stabbing at him. Fizz only moved his head out of the way and swept his trident at Pyke's feet, tripping him again.

"Or that." He laughed some more. Pyke felt the anger slowly building up. It quickly turned to shock as Fizz rushed him, trident glowing yet again. He couldn't parry all his blows; he got a scratch on his arm, chest and abdomen. All of them were strangely burning his skin, as if he was still flesh and blood and his wounds were salted.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" It was beginning to. Pyke had no time to react as Fizz capitalized on his shock, attacking relentlessly. In an instant, Pyke dashed backward, hitting a rickety wooden shack, only now noticing how far away from the shore they had actually come. His mind finally kicked in.

"That won't save you from me." Fizz dashed in after him, trident pointed at, his head. Pyke's eyes radiated shock… and suddenly turned grim.

"Gotcha."

"Wha-" Fizz heard it too late. The watery phantom behind them both dashed toward him, knocking him forward with his neck right into Pyke's grip. His trident deflected his harpoon off of his hand, but Pyke simply slammed him into the rickety building, bringing a beam down on his leg and trapping the yordle.

"Yeah… not so squirmy now, are ya?" Pyke was nearly breathless, curious for someone of his unique constitution. The yordle had some fight in him, unlike any other sea creature he encountered. He picked up his harpoon, lumbering over to finish the fight. Fizz struggled to get loose, unable to reach his trident and unable to move. He saw the looming shadow approaching, the drowned man over him. He did his best to not show his fear, only sporting a defiant look in his eyes. From the isolated water pier, Irelia looked on in distress as Fizz was trapped, having no way to reach him. The waters were dangerous as the jaull-fish and the dragon-shark were fighting, neither of them caring much for what they broke or what other lesser creatures got in the way. Her mind was once again alarmed, slowly losing control of her blades.

"Looks like I'll be adding 'yordle' to my list of expertise after all. Good riddance, you little bastard." Pyke raised his harpoon, looming over the defenseless yordle, who simply closed his eyes.

"No!" Irelia shouted, but Pyke brought down the harpoon.

It never hit the yordle.

The wooden walls in front of them shattered, pelting Pyke with splinters and obscuring his vision for a moment. It was all it took.

A swish of wind and sharkbone, bigger and sharper than his own, and then excruciating pain. His chest split open from the stab, his throat gurgling with seawater from his lungs and stomach. He gripped the massive blade now embedded in his chest, his broken mind still processing the blow. Fizz opened his eyes in surprise and looked up, a smile of relief forming on his face. From the pier, Irelia breathed out, the same smile now gracing her face as well.

He had that effect on people, after all.

"Leave my friends alone, monster." Garen's voice was dangerously low, his grip steady and his gaze steel. He would not allow any of his friends hurt while he still lived, especially not after today's epiphanies.

"Who… the fu-" Pyke managed through the gurgles, but Garen didn't care for introductions. He pulled his sword out of Pyke's chest and with a single, swift and precise spin, bifurcated the drowned man. Pyke's upper half plopped down on the dirt while his legs stood in place for a moment before toppling down as well. His eyes stopped glowing, saltwater dripping out of every wound on his body, mask torn off his face. Garen eyed the man, unsure of what to do and whether or not he was dead. A grunt got his attention, as Fizz still struggle to get out from under the beam. Lifting the beam with one hand, he eyed the little yordle with concern.

"You ok there, little pal?" Garen offered him a helping hand, which Fizz gladly took.

"Of course. I'm just miffed you had to save me. Lost me some style points in front of Irelia. Speaking of which…" Fizz pointed with towards the pier, where the lone woman was waving at them, the waters around now calm as the jaull-fish was scared off. Garen waved back, happy to see her relatively unharmed.

"Yeah! I knew Chomper could beat that jaull. Not only is the best friend in the seas, he is also the best fighter in them, too." Fizz cheered for his friend.

"How'd you find us, anyway?" Fizz asked Garen.

"Well, I asked around Rat Town if people saw Irelia. One of them, a woman that spotted the two of us together earlier that day, told me she went this way. I got a bad feeling and followed the trail. Looks like I got here just in time. Kind of scary, when I think about it…" Garen explained how he found them, alarmed by the thought of what would've happened if he had slowed down or detoured for even a second.

"Well, thanks. Now that we're good and that guy's dead, let's go get-" Fizz began, but a gurgling laugh interrupted him, sending a chill down both their spines. Garen saw it first, readying his blade and pointing it Pyke's face… which was laughing. Fizz kicked up his trident, grabbing and pointing at his head as well.

"I was already dead, little yordle. More death ain't gonna hurt." He spoke, eyes now slowly flaring to life.

"How are you still- What are you?" Even Fizz was alarmed at what he was seeing. Pyke just kept laughing.

"Surprised? You ain't the only one who can laugh, you little bastard. But I figure… I can't fight all three of you… so you get to swim free." The halves of his body suddenly began dissolving into seawater, dripping away into the sea. Before his head melted, Pyke managed one last warning.

"You're all on my list. I know all your faces. And the next time I find you, you won't see me coming." With those final words, his head melted, carrying his mask along with it to the sea and disappearing into the darkness.

Pyke was gone… for now.

"Man… what a freak." Fizz was back to his old self.

"Forget him. If he comes for us, we'll be ready. Come on, let's go help Irelia." Garen spoke, already rushing towards the sea. Fizz signaled Chomper with the trident, who circled around the pier, guarding Irelia from any other sea beasts. Garen and Fizz swam to the lone pier remain, a lone tower with an impatient woman standing on top of it. They both climbed up, standing face to face with an angry and worried Irelia.

"Irelia, are you hur-" Garen wasted no time asking, but was interrupted by the sudden hug he received. Although his mischievous side told him to make fun of it, Fizz held himself back, knowing better than to ruin the moment. Irelia just held him, the blades fluttering soothingly at her head. Garen took a second to compose himself, slowly bringing his hands to her shoulders in return. The feeling of them being alone in the world returned for a brief moment as well, slowly fading away in the darkness along with all the troubles they endured for the day. Irelia finally returned to her own mind, opening her eyes to meet his, embarrassment bringing her back to reality in full.

"I… uhm…" She couldn't speak, but he understood.

"'Good to see you're not dead' is what you mean, I take it?" Garen brought levity to the situation.

"Something like that." Irelia gladly took it once more. She looked up and found exactly what she needed on his face, what she hoped would see more often; his bright and hopeful smile.

"Good to see you too, Irelia."

"Same here, Garen." She smiled back before turning to the little yordle beneath, kneeling down and taking his face in her hands gently.

"Are you ok, Fizz?" She asked with a concern unlike any other the yordle had seen. His mother made him feel something like this… what little he remembered of her.

"O-of course. Come on, Irelia! It's me!" He proclaimed proudly, back to his own antics. He received a light tap on the head in return, however.

"Ow! Hey, what was that for?"

"You could've died." There it was again, swimming around in her voice somewhere. Her eyes held it too, in the glistening between the eyelids and the whites.

"I know. I'm sorry, alright? But I couldn't just sit by and let that freak hurt you, ok?" Fizz felt the strange need to justify his reckless behavior. Luckily, Irelia was also understanding in that regard.

"Thank you. But next time, worry about yourself first, then worry about the one you're saving." She was lecturing him again. Other times, he would've found it boring and a waste of time. Now, he listened. It was a new feeling for him… and not entirely bad at that.

"Got it. I'll be better, more stylish and cooler." Fizz said with his big, toothy grin on his face.

"I guess that means yes?" Garen asked. Fizz just nodded.

"Man, it's late. You guys about ready to get outta here? I know I am." Fizz twirled around, signaling Chomper to come beneath them. The dragon-shark happily stopped right underneath.

"Wait… are we seriously going to-?" Garen knew where this was leading.

"Yep. We are. Just don't sit on his nose. He only lets me do that." Fizz confirmed it. Irelia just started climbing down, eager to go home. The three landed on the dragon-shark's spine in varying degrees of grace, each sitting down with Irelia to the left of his dorsal fin, Garen to the right and Fizz on his forehead.

"Take us home, buddy." Fizz pointed towards the bay, Chomper moving carefully but quickly toward it.

"One moment… yeesh, that's all it took and I was almost done for…" Fizz couldn't get it out of his mind that he was a hair's width close to being chum bait.

"It was all it took for him, too." Irelia comforted him, knowing that she sparked worry in the little guy's mind.

"And me as well." Garen suddenly spoke up.

"What do you mean? You ambushed the guy perfectly." Fizz commented confused.

"Something happened before I came to find Irelia. To put a long story short, I met Tahm Kench." Garen spoke. Irelia looked confused, but Fizz was surprised for a second time this night.

"The… The River King?!" He asked, making sure his ears heard right.

"Yep. Turned him down, though." Garen proclaimed proudly.

"I didn't know you could do that…" Fizz wondered, genuinely impressed Garen was able to resist a bargain with Tahm Kench.

"Well, sounds like you've had quite the day, too." Irelia commented.

"Yep… Say, what were you doing in that part of the city, anyway?" Garen grew curious. Irelia just pulled out the sapphilite sac from her belt.

"Irelia… is that what I think it is?" Garen asked, having seen the drawings in the books Lemmy showed about the sea monsters. Fizz just shook his head in disbelief.

"Wow… you two are something else, you know that? First you take on the River King and reject his bargain, then you find a sapphilite sac and fight off this undead weirdo with a jaull-fish as his attack dog… I don't care anymore. From now on, I'm sticking with you guys. _So_ much more fun that way!" He commented, incredulity and awe mixing in his voice, almost hopping on Chomper's head from excitement. Throughout his years in Bilgewater, never has anyone caused as much trouble nor had as much adventure in a year as those two did in one week.

"Right now, Fizz, I just want to jump in a bed and sleep for a whole day." Garen sounded exhausted.

"Agreed. Too much excitement for one day." Irelia found herself nodding to that notion. Fizz turned around, shaking his head at the two's constitution. Humans had their limits of fun, unlike him and other yordles. He would let them rest, though. It was important to them. He looked to the stars above, breathing out everything that happened.

"Wowee… what a night…"

* * *

Miss Fortune's mansion was buzzing the next morning, even though only nine people were present. Lemmy was practically chugging rum bottles, still coming to terms with the fact that Pyke was the Bloodharbor Ripper. The notion of the most famous harpooner in the Isles now returned as some sort of undead to haunt them didn't sit well with him. Gaston was studying the sapphilite sac, confirming to an inquisitive Irelia that it was indeed real and worth ten fortunes. Velvet and Mylene were still probing Garen for details about his encounter with the River King and what that devil asked of him.

All in all, a normal morning. The only ones to sit quietly on the side were Sarah, Rafen and Fizz.

"So… this is all turning into a shitshow real fast…" Rafen broke the ice with the truth. It was the only way he knew how.

"Yeah… Well, look the bright side, Raf. At least now we know who and what we're fighting." Sarah twirled her guns, attempting to soothe her First Mate as well as she could.

"I know. That's what makes me antsy. By the Bearded Lady… Pyke himself, returned from the dead… and the way those two described it made it sound like he's not a product of the Harrowing." Rafen summed all they had heard from last night.

"He ain't, which means we got more enemies on the horizon to worry about." She sounded so callous describing that.

"You could at least act worried, y'know." Rafen reprimanded her, but she shrugged with a smile.

"It's Bilgewater, Raf. If it's not one thing, it's another." She looked to the Demacian and Ionian, the words unspoken still lingering between them. She wondered if she was wrong about them.

"That's all I know, I swear. He just disappeared afterwards." Garen finished his story on the River King. Mylene and Velvet looked at each other, confirming his story.

"All right, handsome. We've heard all we need. Thanks." Velvet relieved him, Garen eager to leave and get some fresh air with all the craziness going around. Irelia took the sapphilite sac and joined him outside. Fizz got up with a jump ready to join them, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Hold up, little guy. Let them have some privacy." Sarah told him. Maybe this was the moment they needed.

"What?! Well, what am I supposed to do with you guys?" Fizz grew bored. This was going to be a long morning for him, it seemed.

Garen breathed in the air and took in the sights. For once, he enjoyed the city's bustle after experiencing the worst it had to offer.

"Brutal morning, huh?" Irelia summed up their first waking hours.

"That's putting it mildly."

"Well, it all passed… assuming you slept well."

"I did. How about you?"

"Well, no nightmares yet, but we'll see." Irelia breathed in as well. She looked at him, peaceful and content for the moment. A question lingered in the back of her mind and although she didn't want to disturb the peacefulness, she needed to ask it.

"Garen, last night when we rode on the dragon-shark- I can't believe I just started a sentence like that- Never mind. Last night, when we spoke, you said you had a moment of weakness in front of the River King. What did you mean by that?" She asked as respectfully as she could, awkwardness notwithstanding.

"It's alright. To answer your question, though, I did. The River King made me a deal; he offered me a boat that would take me anywhere unseen, including past the Noxian blockade. It seemed so easy to take the deal right then and there… I almost gave in, knowing I could have what I wanted." Garen looked down, not being proud of that moment in his life.

"But you found the strength to do it. I knew you had it in you." Irelia encouraged him, but Garen turned to her, his look seasoned with sorrow and disappointment.

"I didn't, Irelia. It was just… too tempting to refuse. The only way I broke out was with help from someone else." He confessed to her, ready to let her know.

"Someone else? Who?"

"You."

"Me?" She was genuinely baffled at that one. He kept going, though.

"When I remembered all you did for me that morning, chasing after me when I was lost, pulling me out of my own misery and telling me that you'll stick by me gave me the strength to resist even my own strongest temptations. It made me remember what I had and that I wasn't willing to throw it away just for some shortcut." Garen surmised. Irelia listened, the crest fluttering soothingly yet again.

"You saved me more than once yesterday, Irelia. I wouldn't have made it out without your help." He smiled yet again.

It should've made her feel better, happier knowing that he was safe thanks to her.

Why? Why did it make her feel miserable?

'Because if it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have been in those situations in the first place.'

It was slowly seeping down from her mind and into her eyes. Garen spotted it as well, growing concerned.

"Irelia? Are you alright?"

There it was… What was she supposed to say to that? She couldn't take it anymore, couldn't hold it back any longer.

"I'm sorry…" It was a whisper, but he still heard it.

"Wh-what are talking about?"

"It's all my fault… Everything is…" Her voice was breaking with every word. He grew alarmed.

"Irelia, what are you on about? Nothing about yesterday was your fau-"

"I'M NOT AN IDIOT, OK?!"

She broke, eyes glistening in the sun, blades slowly lowering to the ground as if losing their magic. Garen just stared at her, unsure of what to do next.

"I know there were other ships back at the harbor in Noxus. Ships that lead to Piltover and Freljord. I know that you had your only shot at those ships when we first separated." Every word was laced with pain, her shattered voice struggling to carry them out of her heart.

"I know that you threw away that chance because of me… because of what I did. In my selfishness, I took away your only hope of going home." Bit by bit, the sorrow in her soul revealed itself.

"You're not stuck here by of the machinations of gods, fate or whatever other higher powers exist. You're stuck here _because of __**me**_. I pulled you down with me, I used your kindness against you… I prevented you from getting home. It wasn't Noxus, no… It was me." All was now out in the open and yet there was still so much left unsaid…

"When we first shared a drink… Yes, that's when it began. It was just a billow then, but now it grew into a fire that torched half my soul. When you left with the fleet, smiling and promising that you would return, it only fanned the first embers. By some chance, I found a small beach, an untouched paradise just for me and I asked the Great Spirit of my home to hear me and guard you in my stead. Because every time… every time I'm with you, I end up hurting you in the long run." The glistening in her eyes was slowly turning to water.

"And yet… every time, you come back again and again. You treat my mistakes as natural, as if they are as much a part of me as my good qualities. You call me out on every one of my deeds, good or bad. You disagree with me, laugh with me, listen to me and fight side by side with me." One stream down her left eye, the right following shortly after.

"You called me that word… The word that meant so much back in Noxus and that still retains its meaning in this place… You called me friend…" She looked at him through her tears, desperately searching for any sort of conviction for her in his eyes. She found only confusion and a lost soul… just like her.

"It didn't start with you, you know… Back home, I danced so people could know joy. I thought I found my place in Ionia, that it would finally have need of someone like me… and yet in the end, I only brought them pain and death. The ones I inspired to fight came back to kill me, having heard of my true reasons for fighting, twisting them to suit what their minds wanted hear and see. No matter the reason or beginning, all of my dances ended in death. Now… I'm scared it's also going to happen to you." She broke completely, turning around with the railing being the only thing that could support her for the moment.

"In my heart, I want to dance alone. Part of that is because I want to be alone, but the other part… the other part is scared that my dancing will hurt people or lead them to their deaths. I don't want that for anyone, Garen… especially not for you." Her head lowered, blades barely floating at her back.

"I'm sorry, Garen… for everything."

The world disappeared again, leaving both of them floating on a small patch of land in a great white void and giving Garen a sense of déjà vu. But now, the roles were reversed. He looked at the morose woman in front of him, crippled by her own emotions, thoughts and actions. Was she hiding it all this time? Was he making it worse all those times he reaffirmed his friendship with her?

Was this what he looked like back when she pulled him out of his own pit of despair?

Back then, she seemed so strong, so determined. Through sheer will, she pulled him out of the darkness, gave him his hope back and brought a smile on his face. Now here she was, broken and alone, wanting to forget it all, a far cry from the Irelia that fought through his own walls of depression.

Was he as strong as her? Was he strong enough to break those same walls right now?

What could he do? What comfort could he give her, knowing that reminding her of their friendship would only wound her further? What should he say to her?

**The truth**. Someone like her deserved **nothing less**.

He made those few steps forward on that small patch floating in the void, standing next to her. He slowly turned, eyeing her long unkempt hair covering her face. His hand slowly reached up, softly touching her shoulder.

"Irelia…" She still ignored him. He was patient, though. He always was when it came to his friends.

"Hey… Look at me…" He was the gentlest he had ever been. Not with the children back home, not with the grieving mothers of the soldiers he lost under his command and not with Lux was he as tender as he was now. Her head was slowly rising, her long hair brushing back to reveal her tear-soaked cheeks and reddened eyes. She turned to him, expecting nothing… and yet some foolish hope inside her remained, telling her to give him a chance.

She looked him in the face, dreading that smile, hoping to find a look of disapproval and disgust instead.

He gave her neither. It was something else. It was a smaller smile, one of sincerity and honesty. It wasn't bright, but it was warm nonetheless.

"If time was turned back somehow and I was returned to those docks or placed in any other similar situation, where I would choose either between my friend and my freedom, I would choose the same as I did back then." There was no lie in his eyes, only light… a flicker that grew brighter and brighter…

"When we first met, I thought you were nothing but a reckless blade mage whose sole purpose was dying for her homeland. In that alley, when you told me how much your family crest means to you, I began to have doubts. I thought of mages as nothing but warmongering, rash and impulsive characters, doing whatever their whims told them to. You began to change all that." Not all magic is evil… Ah… so that's why he said it… It all made sense now.

"I hesitated many times during my escape, but the one time I didn't bother listening to my mind was at those docks, when I turned around the instant I heard those horns sound off. I knew you needed me there and I cannot… I _will_ not abandon my friends. Never again…" His thoughts turned to all of those he couldn't save from themselves. It was true, they had chosen that path, but maybe he could've been stronger and more adamant in breaking through. He would not make the same mistake with Irelia.

"When I fought the Mother Leviathan, dangling from its back alone in the darkness, I faltered yet again, another moment of weakness begging me to let go and swim away. Hearing the news about my way home being barred shattered what was left of my hope and it all culminated in me almost giving away a part of my soul to the River King. Despite my frame, fortitude and courage, I still wavered." Garen confessed, laying out all the times he felt weak.

"And through all of those things, the one thing that restored my hope was this one woman I know. She was stubborn, easily irate, sardonic to a fault, direct and honestly difficult to understand. She was also selfless, dedicated, kind, encouraging and comical." Irelia's eyes slowly dried, her face only laced with surprise. She still listened, that hopeful part inside growing louder and louder.

"In lands wrought with danger, cheats, death, demons and chaos, she was the sole voice of reason among thousands of inane screams. When they tried to drown me with my own despair, her reassurances pulled me to the surface. When I faltered in the dark away from the light of my home, it was her torch that lit the way for me. And finally, when I sat surrounded by the beliefs of my own making, by the ignorance of my own design, it was her that shattered them." Garen mentioned every single kindness she gave him, knowing that he could never truly repay her. But he could and would do this one thing for her.

"And that woman was you. Irelia, I need you to listen to me carefully for this next part." His gaze intensified, yet was no less warm.

"You are the strongest woman I have ever met. I say that having met _a lot_ of Demacian women, all of whom had strength unlike any other. You have given me so much of it, yet have kept none for yourself. But right now, the one who needs that strength the most is you. So please, Irelia… be strong for yourself. I don't know what happened in Ionia to make you think you don't deserve to be kind to yourself, but you do. And for those who twist that kindness and abuse it for their own ideals, well… let's just say they only see you as a martyr for their own cause, of which you want no part in." His voice was unyielding in that belief. She felt strangely free of her burdens, the darkness almost completely subsiding. And Garen was happy to deliver that final push.

"If right now you don't believe you deserve kindness, friendship, trust and love, I will believe for you until you are ready to do so for yourself… just as you did for me. I won't abandon you, Irelia… and that's a promise." The final crumble of the blackened walls of melancholy brought out the tiniest hint of a smile on the corners of her lips. It was enough for his to return fully, lending her as much as she needed. Through the voices of despair, she could finally hear him, finally comprehend what he meant. Her will returned, signaled by her blades floating in a winged formation on her back, as if she soared above the misery and malice of her own self-doubt. The curves on the corners of her lips were growing upward further and further until her eyes finally found the spark she was looking for. Finally she was able to meet his smile with one of equal strength and hope.

"Garen… I… Thank you."

"Anytime." He raised his hand, awaiting her own.

"Together?" Garen asked, reaffirming their promise. Irelia slowly raised her hand to meet his own, but stopped halfway. She approached him, blades floating in peace behind her and put her arms around him. Garen was as stumped as he was yesterday, but recovered faster this time, his arms around her as well in content.

"Together." She affirmed it. They needed nothing more.

The white void began breaking as the world of Runeterra returned around them, sights and sounds of the city below filling up their senses once again… including the commotion coming from the mansion.

"Ah well… peaceful moments never last in this city, do they?" Irelia spoke as they broke the embrace, the deepest parts of their hearts wishing they stayed a little longer like that.

"Please tell me Fizz isn't causing trouble again… I don't want to have to clean up barnacles around the place like last time." Garen complained, both of them suffering punishment for the yordle's pranks as no one in Bilgewater could catch the little bugger, settling to transfer the debts on his friends instead.

"Well, we'd better go see." Irelia walked inside, Garen joining her soon after. To their surprise, they came upon an argument between Sarah and a newcomer who they recognized as Motoi, the Serpent Caller.

"I don't care what she wants, Motoi. They are free to do as they please. I mean w-why is she suddenly ordering people to come to her? Isn't freedom her lesson or something?" Sarah was getting angry, something unusual for her from the brief time they've known her.

"That she is, lassie. So they either come to her or she comes _here_. Need I remind you what happened the last time she came?" Motoi seemingly threatened her.

"Whoa, whoa… Easy now, old man. Let's not blow things out of proportion. The Demacian and the Ionian have the final say it in, anyhow." Rafen tried to calm things down when the duo in question entered the room.

"And here they are. Fortune, we're done here." Motoi spoke with finality in his voice.

"No, we are **not**." Sarah almost jumped over the table, but Rafen and Lemmy held her back.

"Easy, red. Easy." Lemmy and Rafen struggled to hold her from starting a fight with one the Buhru, a religious man at that. Velvet, Mylene and Gaston simply backed off, not wanting to get involved. Fizz was amused at the whole thing, unsure of who to cheer for and only calling it off when his friends entered.

"Man, you two should have been here earlier. Sarah over there turned as red as her hair." Fizz laughed, oblivious to the fact that Lemmy and Rafen were trying to convince Sarah not to shoot him in the face.

"What do you mean? What is going on here?" Irelia asked.

"What is going on is the old fart over there wants you two in Buhru." Sarah said through gritted teeth.

"Not me. Illaoi does." Motoi corrected her.

"Oh right, yeah… Her holiness does." Sarah's voice was derisive, another thing uncharacteristic for her, at least for Garen and Irelia.

"Illaoi? Who's that?" Garen asked.

"The Kraken Priestess of the Buhru and of the Serpent Isles. If you don't want to come, that's fine. She'll come to you. She said that you would better understand if came over there." Motoi explained.

"Pfft… yeah right. First undermining my authority, then taking whatever she wants and now coaxing outsiders… She can sincerely go fu-" Sarah went off, but Rafen stopped her.

"Sarah! Enough, yeah?" Rafen grew more distressed by the second. Sarah calmed down enough to assuage him.

"What does this Illaoi want with us?" Irelia asked.

"That's for her to tell you. Make your choice, 'cause I have somewhere else I want to be. Literally anywhere else but here…" Motoi grumbled.

"Guys, don't worry. Illaoi is fine as long as you don't make her angry." Fizz spoke from his one experience of having met the lumbering woman. Irelia looked to the yordle and then to Garen.

"Take it from someone who has had experiences with this kind of thing before, you don't want to make religious fanatics angry. I say we go, hear out what she has to say and get out of there." Garen spoke, his previous experiences with the Frostguard having more than engraved themselves in his mind.

"Can I come? I promise I'll behave… try to, anyway." Fizz asked, eager to leave.

"That's all we can hope for with you. Fine, you can come." Garen gave him permission, slowly getting used to the little guy. Fizz just pumped the air in victory.

"A vacation to Buhru, is it? Well, as far as I can tell, all of your debts here are squared and you are officially free." Gaston surmised their situation.

"You two make your own choices now." Velvet sounded like a mother proud of her children.

"They've always been free to make those, Velvet. But the question is… what are they going to choose?" Mylene sounded curious. All eyes were on them.

"Well, we got another journey ahead of us, then." Irelia declared.

"Time to explore Buhru." Garen's enthusiasm returned.

"And of course, someone has to be your sense of navigation." Irelia toned it down.

"As long as it's not your miserable sense of adventure, I'm game." Something inside Garen was determined to win these contests against her. Motoi pushed past them a little forcibly.

"You two disgust me." And with that he left.

"Fizz, did you put sardines in his arse?" Lemmy asked.

"Not me, I swear." Fizz defended himself.

The rest of the day was filled with planning, preparations, learning of customs and chasing after Fizz when he stole another dragon-shark tooth. And throughout it all, they welcomed the levity as it reminded them of what they all had; friends, freedom and the world stretching out before them.


	6. Bilgewater - Freedom's price

**Bilgewater Part IV – Freedom's price**

The fresh seawater air did wonders for one's lungs, especially on warm mornings. Although the harbor was still drowsy, the salt-laced breeze roused it up, preparing it for the day's work ahead. Trade was coming and going, even with recent events forcing it down a little. If humans were anything it was hungry, either for more or for enough. The Mother Leviathan's bones, picked completely clean, now stood in the middle of the bay, a completed monument earned and in a way, constructed by its people. In the past few days, Bilgewater had become a little richer, in more ways than one. Still, many of the citizens took it as a sign; the Mother Serpent only had bigger plans ahead. The god's tests never truly stopped. They only got more frequent, complex and difficult.

Motoi had been a servant since adolescence; when he first learned of the world outside Buhru, he felt a strange desire to explore it. Following in his mother's footsteps, he became a Caller, charged with overseeing and using the great Serpent Horns of the Isles. He got his first taste of the world in Bilgewater and beyond the Isles soon after when he was summoned for his first ceremonial monster call. It was also the first time he saw young Illaoi, taller than any man or woman on the Isles, more brash than them as well. He didn't approve of her reckless disrespect of the traditional word-spreading and certainly not the place she chose to do it. Bilgewater had its own interpretations of Nagakabouros' boons and dogma, although one had to give credit to those that tried to follow them. The former pirate king was one of those people, but Motoi worried at the time he might lead Illaoi astray. Instead, she captured him easily, instilling in him the unshakable desire for power and control. It amazed him at that time. Now, he wasn't so sure it was a good decision.

"Serpent for your thoughts, old man?" Lemmy called out from behind him, interrupting his gaze home. Buhru wasn't far from the bay, but it would still take at least two days by ship… with _those_ three. He was never a crowd person.

"Just thinking about home. How are the preparations? Are we on schedule?" Motoi asked.

"Loading up the last of the cargo right now and our three esteemed passengers will be arriving shortly." Lemmy reported, looking around for Garen, Irelia and Fizz. Motoi sighed, not eager to be on a ship with the three morons for two whole days. The duo was bad enough, but the yordle would drive him straight off the deck.

"What's your issue with them, anyway?" Lemmy asked as if reading his mind, curious as to why Motoi didn't like the duo.

"They're too restrained." He simply said.

"About what?"

"Everything. They have strength, skill, luck, intelligence and above all will to use them, but they don't. Even though Nagakabouros gave them the means to both amplify and use their might, they detain themselves from taking what they want. It's pathetic, honestly." Motoi explained. He was used to outsiders dying due to their own ineptitude to take control of their destiny, opting to let it roll on Bilgewater's tables of luck, just as much as he was used to those rising through the ranks and heights because of it. Never in his life has met people who not only controlled their own destiny, but also steered it clear of the ocean of desire. You didn't get far in life without wanting it all, especially in the Serpent Isles, but those two got everything and still refused to grab for more even though they had the means to take it. It perplexed him to the point of frustration.

"That's the Buhru in you talking, old man. They aren't from here. Their codes are not ours. The entire world isn't the Isles, nor is it the ocean." Lemmy reasoned.

"I know that, but the more I see of it, the more I become bored with it. People acting the same everywhere you go… it's just dull." Motoi's travel experiences to Noxus, Freljord and Shurima offered their wisdom. People in those parts of the world always acted like death was the only thing that gave life any meaning. Demacia and Ionia had different views, but no less stagnant. They thought order and harmony were the ways of life, unaware that they only brought decay and weakness. Or maybe it was just those two. For some reason, Motoi couldn't help but see them as symbols of their respective nations, almost as if they were their avatars. Garen was a proud man, stoic in his stances and unmoving in his ways. Irelia was a harmonious woman, reliant on the flow and opposing of the harsher ways of the world. Both were motionless in this, yet somehow they became friends, moved others and survived everything the Isles threw at them.

How? How was it that these two were still alive without their desires to keep them afloat?

"That's 'cause you've never been around them, Motoi. Trust me, life these past weeks in Bilgewater was leagues more interesting thanks to those two." Lemmy sharpened his harpoon. He looked up, finally spotting the approaching trio, Garen and Irelia carrying light bags packed with provisions while Fizz stowed away on Garen's shoulders.

"Speaking of which…"

"Good morning." Garen greeted them.

"You are late." Motoi grumbled.

"What? No, we aren't. The ship's not even ready yet." Irelia noted.

"I know, but I wanted to talk you two before that demon riding on your shoulders ruins the rest of the trip." He pointed at Fizz, who just waved him off.

"Oh? What about?" Garen grew curious.

"About what your nations are like. You two seem enamored with them, judging by how bull-headed you are in your goals." Motoi commented, not happy that his own goal has been derailed. Both the western and the eastern sides of Runeterra eluded him for quite some time, with Demacia too insular for him and Ionia too disordered. Chaos was good, but only in the right amount whereas order was just pointless in his eyes.

"Well, I'm sure we can all come to an arrangement concerning that. Fizz keeps his mouth closed in return for…" Garen looked at the yordle above his head, asking what he wanted in return.

"A huge bowl of mangoes when we arrive." Fizz spoke, licking his lips at the thought.

"Fine… but I hear so much as a peep out of you on the ship, your stomach remains empty." Motoi agreed. Fizz only made a tying motion around his mouth.

"Now then Garen, you first. Demacia has long been a static kingdom, making it both free from the troubles of the world but also blind to them. Now that you've seen it, what do you think of it? How does your kingdom compare to the rest of Runeterra?" Motoi wasted no time asking. Garen looked thoughtful for a bit, finding a right answer to that question. Realizing he had yet to determine it, he settled for the truth.

"I've yet to discover the truth behind that question, Motoi, seeing as how I have only begun my journey. But I can say for sure it's not what I thought it would be. There is danger, darkness, corruption and death but there is also change, life, grace and beauty. I think… it's a world worth protecting and fighting for. Just like my home." Garen admitted.

"That's all well and good, but you have never let chaos touch your homeland. You have never let the motion of life change it. Do you really think you can survive this world without moving along with it?" Motoi asked him, his dogma prevalent in every one of his words. He expected them to put a dent in the Demacian's armor.

What he got in return was a stalwart gaze.

"Chaos is not the way of the world, old caller. It is simply a directionless, whimsy and wayward squall, destroying everything in its path because it can. If you let yourself be ruled by your own raw emotions, untempered by your mind's goals and cooled thoughts, then you will become separated from everyone and everything you care about and fight for. You will live, fight and die for nothing. Demacia will survive as it always has, but it will do so by its own laws and order. Yes, some of them have to and will change, but they will still guide and protect its people… and I will make sure they do so." Garen pitted his own beliefs against the Caller's dogma of motion and chaos. He may have been tolerant of religious people, but he would not abide any of their views being imposed on him. Motoi just nodded with a smile, slightly surprising the Demacian soldier.

"Hmmm. Interesting. There may be hope for you yet. And what about you, Ionian? What do you think of the world beyond your undecided, discordant and tumultuous homeland?" Motoi looked to Irelia, eyeing her more curiously seeing as how he has never seen her in action and didn't know what to expect.

"First of all, my name is Irelia. Second, my homeland is still recovering from the war which both Noxus and Bilgewater profited from, taking spoils unjustly earned from my people. Ionia's old harmony has been broken and many now seek to abuse that, both from the outside and the inside. I don't know how I can stop the chaos, but I will do it nonetheless. As for the world beyond the ocean that separates us, it would be in its best interest to leave us be until then. Trust me, you do _not_ want to provoke us further." Irelia split her crest to affirm that statement, the shards both gracefully and threateningly floating above her.

"Huh… Well, who knows? Maybe the chaos will do you good. People often find the truest part of themselves in the eye of the storm, not outside of it." Motoi commented, but Irelia gave him a look that was cut sharper than her blades.

"I _am_ the storm. A storm that protects Ionia from all who would do her harm. And any who think of threatening my homeland will find themselves swept under my winds and obliterated by my lightning. My rain will wash away their filth, letting better life and better times grow from the fertile soil. Remember that the next time you or anyone you tell about me thinks of setting foot in Ionia with the intent to harm it or its people." Irelia was no less stalwart than Garen. Motoi was indeed right about them; they were the souls of their nations, both their boons and their flaws prevalent in their actions and speech. He just hoped both would be open enough to change. Despite his age, he still wished to visit them someday.

"Hmmm. Well, at least you are less tedious to listen to and tolerate now. It's not going to be as long a trip as I thought." Motoi commented, the fact that they both moved and challenged his ideals not lost on him. Maybe this is what the priestess thought of when she heard of them. The question remained, however.

What would she do when she came face to face with both of them, as individuals and as one?

The sound of the horn from the ship signalling the beginning of the boarding and cargo loading promised an interesting answer to that question. Before all that happened, however, Sarah and Rafen approached the trio, ignoring the Caller who not only didn't take offense but was also glad he wasn't bothered. Maybe mutual understanding was all that was needed between the paylangi and the Buhru.

"I see you three are ready to go." Sarah wasted no time greeting them. It was short, after all.

"Yep. Just waiting on you guys." Fizz chimed in.

"You three have everything packed? Buhru is quite a trip off of here… not to mention what awaits you there." Rafen managed to sound like a concerned father, the detail not lost on anyone.

"You sound ready for fatherhood, Raf." His captain teased him.

"No. Just no." He put a swift and decisive end to that discussion.

"This place isn't the type you raise kids in. They just sort of… raise themselves here." Rafen commented.

"Not for long. Things are changing around here." Sarah sounded hopeful, even for her. Part of her remembered her mother's gunsmithing lessons, the bedtime stories, the hair brushing and the jokes. Bilgewater was a cold place to live in, however, and that cold came for Sarah on that night in the form of the Saltwater Scourge. Greedy and ambitious, Gangplank took the pistols her mother made for him and then shot her in front of Sarah, who witnessed the whole event, earning her what was thought to be eternal silence from Gangplank in the form of two bullets to her heart's sides. Somehow, she survived, driven by sheer vengeance ever since. With her revenge now sated, however, something else had to drive her forward through Bilgewater's unforgiving atmosphere of opportunity, selfishness and greed. Gangplank's ways were a plague on this city, driving everyone to follow their whims, only stopping when they reached Gangplank's turfs. It was the way he wanted it; chaos weeds out the stupid and unlucky while the smart and lucky learned to fear and respect him, maybe even join him. She had to admit it was a good plan, but his motives deteriorated the longer he grew in power while not testing himself or its reaches. It was all the chance she needed and two well-placed chess pieces. It all fell together perfectly.

And then, the Harrowing came.

She both lost and found pieces of herself during that period. The most important piece revealed itself to her, however. If she kept chasing after the past, the future would forever remain obscure to her. Vengeance dragged her and everyone she cared about down below the depths of lethargy, just like Gangplank before her. She promised herself she would not fall into the same trap. She would keep swimming and she would keep clearing the waters for those behind that followed her.

She would look towards the future… and she would make it better.

"Times will change. Yeah, I know the chaos isn't gonna make it easy on us, but we can make it work in our direction. The flow can't be stopped, but it can be controlled… at least, for a little while." Sarah removed her tricorne, looking at her two employees and their new yordle friend.

"You two have been… interesting to have around. Thanks to you, we've caught a legendary sea monster, gotten closer to catching a dangerous murderer and somewhat gotten Fizz to behave." She summed up their stay in Bilgewater.

"Me? Behave? You're drunk this early in the morning, Sarah?" Fizz quipped, earning another scowl. People like her were at least honest in their emotions, even if they were solemn beneath their façades.

"At least you'll be out of our hair for a few days." Sarah returned the favor. She turned to her guests.

"Garen, Irelia… I just want to say that whatever you may think of me, I hope you both get home. I know I'd be trying to do the same if I was in your position. Bilgewater may not be your top spot for vacation, but should you both find yourselves here again, just knock. We'll open the door." Sarah found herself offering, unusual for someone of her disposition. Yes, Bilgewater never gave things away for free, but maybe a little kindness would go a long way. Maybe it was time for all of the Isles to attend that lesson.

"Thank you, Miss Fortune. Despite the issues I had with Bilgewater, I must admit we got quite lucky stowing away on one of your ships. You are a fair and prudent employer." Garen thanked her for the opportunity she provided them with. At first, it seemed like she was just another ambitious gang leader looking to make it big, but her aspirations and ideals shone through the tough exterior, at least for him.

"We can't thank you properly and enough. If you ever decide to travel to Ionia, please don't hesitate to do so. I will personally inform the land and its denizens to grant you passage." Irelia extended her welcome. Although Ionia still bore scars from warmongering outsiders, those who would not do it harm would be welcome there and she felt Sarah was one such person. Sarah on the other hand just shook her head with a smirk.

"Appreciate it but no, thanks. If I leave even for a second, this whole city goes absolutely bonkers. Until I get a good grip on its sanity, vacations are benched." Sarah put her tricorne on, signalling the near end of their goodbyes.

"Listen, you two. I'm gonna keep this short and simple 'cause I got a lot of things to do. You may have met under strange circumstances and whether or not it was fated or coincidental, you both share the same route. Don't let it go to waste. Stay together as long as you can." She was halfway to both advising and asking.

"Why do you say that?" Irelia asked for both Garen and her own curiosity.

"You two bring out the best in each other." Sarah tried simplifying it. The duo shared a look, a now-common occurrence between them. Despite the mutual hardships, shared dilemma, opposite views on magic and being literally half a world apart in terms of birthplace and way of growing up, they became friends. One could place that on their necessity to work together in unknown lands, survive and reach home, but a few weeks of mutual language teaching, challenging conversation, shared drinks, problem solving, attempts on their lives and general bickering, they solidified all of that into a strong bond. Nobody thought it a strange sight anymore, just two souls seeking to return from whence they came.

"Maybe for now, but I doubt my sense of adventure is going to rub off on her. She can barely get her morning stretches through without complaining about the smells or the rats. I honestly see her having trouble keeping up with my high spirits in the near future." Garen jabbed his friend, who just rolled her eyes.

"Coming from someone that almost got killed by a massive sea monster, turned into a depressed wreck by one comment and nearly sold his soul to a catfish demon, those high spirits are a pretty low bar to clear." Irelia shot back, knowing that no matter how many shots they fire at each other, they would still stick with together. Garen just smiled, shaking his head aside.

"And morning stretches are very important for me, thank you very much." She added.

"Fortune, can your people prep the ship faster? These two are doing that thing that makes me puke again." Motoi grumbled. Sarah could've given the order, but this was the perfect moment for retribution for yesterday.

"Your stomach can handle it as much as it can handle all those peppers and tunas. You can wait a little longer." Sarah said without looking at him, knowing her expression would be assumed. People's minds tended to lean towards negativity if left standing, especially impatient ones. Motoi would do the rest himself and judging by the scornful expression that molded on his face, it was working marvelously.

"Well, if this it, you two, I just want to say it's been a pleasure having you around. I know Bilgewater's charms might not have been what you two are used to, but I hope they haven't been too rough for your skins." Rafen bowed slightly in respect to his co-workers and dare he say acquaintances.

"Thank you, sir Rafen. Not just for that but also for making our stay here as pleasant as possible. If you hadn't given us a chance, who knows what might've happened." Irelia bowed in gratitude.

"If not for your and Fortune's offer, our names would probably be on the bounty board by now… or worse." Garen extended his hand, which Rafen and Sarah gladly shook.

"And who could forget that because of all that, we got two magical artifacts and met the silliest yordle in Bilgewater?" Garen looked at the passenger on his shoulders, who flashed his toothy grin in return.

"Literally no one. He kinda makes it hard for people to ignore him." Irelia's wit was still sharp and present.

"Well, if only they'd be less _boring_ maybe I wouldn't have to kick them out of their lazy dull lives every single day." Fizz defended his style of life.

"I wouldn't call what you do public services, but then again I don't know much about yordles to act as a judge on that." Garen still remembered the hallways covered with barnacles… and the clams on their beds… and the dragon-shark ride through the bay…

"Well I do, so I say it's good for all of you." Fizz jumped off his shoulders, landing on his trident and twirling around it to the ground.

"So stick with me. I'll teach you all you need to know about yordles." Fizz proclaimed to his knight companion. Part of Garen grew slightly more curious; before he met Fizz, yordles were as much a bedtime story to him as they were to Demacia's children. The existence of said creatures and the possibility that they could have a form of culture intrigued him. With every further thought, his curiosity was encouraged and in turn encouraged him to take that uncertain first step towards knowledge.

"I'm holding you to that, then." Garen simply nodded with a sincere smile. Before the conversation could continue further, a horn was blown.

"All aboard!" A voice shouted, making the crew of the ship start loading up the last bits of supplies and themselves on it.

"Finally…" Motoi wasted no time pushing past the people and getting on the ship.

"Looks like you're all set. Here's to your safe passage, m'lord and lady." Rafen bade them one last goodbye.

"Just stay alive and keep those heads cool and attached to your shoulders. Good luck, you two." Sarah waved them off as they headed toward the brow.

"Keep walking the path you're on, Fortune. It leads to greater things for everyone who trails it."

"Keep protecting those following you, Sarah. They will bring better times for Bilgewater."

Garen and Irelia said their respective goodbyes, boarding the ship along with Fizz, who just waved. A final horn and cast-off order marked the end of their stay in Bilgewater, with Sarah and Rafen waving them farewell until they reached the bay's exit. They turned to the city one last time, taking in the scenery and sounds. The sunrise's rays fell on it perfectly, illuminating the shanties and people the brightest they've ever been. The city paid no attention to them; they were just another pair of travelers leaving it. Like the ocean itself, they were mere raindrops to it, only marveling but unable to comprehend it fully. And yet, it never truly forgot them nor did it let their deeds dissolve into the waters. Yes, they were mere raindrops, but the corpse of the Leviathan, the uncovering of Sterak's Fists, the befriending of Fizz and the encounters with the Ripper and the River King gave the city new stories to tell, stories that would no doubt be embellished, but would still manage to hold the attention of those listening. And in the city's ambitions, it would inspire those who sought to make a tale of their own.

"So… what do you think? Two new tales? The Knight who dared doom and the Dancer who defied death?" Rafen's alliteration flew loose.

"I was thinking more like… 'The legend of Garen and Irelia, the soldier and the dancer seeing the world'. Has a unique spirit to it, don't you think?" Sarah suggested. Treasure hunting and romantic adventure tales were not her bottle of rum, but maybe she could start catching up to them.

"Sounds tame… and novel-ish. You wanna help me write it?" Rafen suggested.

"Wait, you're not serious about writing that down in a book?" Sarah asked, curious and incredulous to her first mate's sudden interest in writing.

"Well, story-spinning has always been my thing. Maybe when I'm old and graying I could write it all down." Rafen let himself hope a little. He would probably die before any of that happened, but on the off-chance he survived, he wanted to leave something to Bilgewater and the rest of the Isles, at least to those who were literate.

"Then you better make sure you stay alive." Sarah turned to the open seas, the seemingly endless blue looking inviting, ripe with adventure and possibilities. A lot of those invitations promised danger, but once in a while a few would surface that offered succor and boon. She had a lot of reasons to keep looking for those. Rafen was one of many and high on the priority list at that. She looked at her first mate, now deep in thought, probably about the next story he would tell.

"Well, since those books aren't gonna write themselves, you better get back to work, Raf." Sarah turned, giving one last look at the departing ship. She then looked to Bilgewater, trade and bustle going ever on. One got used to spotting even the smallest change after seeing it so many times and Sarah could tell that something had shifted. The Leviathan's corpse definitely provided a catalyst, but the city seemed a bit more content with itself. Moments like these were few and far between. Maybe these respites were all that it needed, a breath of fresh air between the madness and anarchy.

"Captain! You coming?!" Rafen was already at the harbor gates, waving her over. She breathed in, savoring the moment. None of it would've been possible without those two. She breathed out, letting the flow take hold and carry her again, though she swam with a bit more resolve this time.

"Yeah! Gather up the crew, Raf. We've got a lot to do." With a final turn, Sarah Fortune walked towards the future she was trying to build, knowing that despite its rough beginnings and violent creation, better times would come.

* * *

The straits of the Serpent Isles' northern islands were sharp and unforgiving to unseasoned captains and untested sailors. Luckily, Opal was not one of those captains and her crew was one of the toughest and sternest in Bilgewater. Although she acted as a ferry for the Caller and his guests, she still took her job seriously. To be lax in Buhru was to invite death. The waves were strangely behaving themselves and working together with their direction, making the voyage a little bit safer.

On the deck of the Slashing Mermaid, Garen observed the straits and the waterways, discerning of their guiding formations, as if they both kept out and invited people in. Irelia lulled to the melody of the waves crashing upon the small shores of the pathways, weaving through the sounds as much as the ship weaved through the rocks. She barely resisted the urge to start dancing, but held herself back as she would not risk distracting people from navigating the dangerous straits. Fizz, having been forbidden from speaking and playing due to the deal he made, napped out of boredom. Irelia sat next to him, gently nuzzling him on the head, part to soothe him further and part to distract herself from the alluring melody of the seas. Garen turned, having trouble keeping himself from smiling at the sight.

'Thank you, Nagakabouros, for this small mercy. I promise that it will not go unremembered.' Motoi silently prayed to the god for giving them leeway on their voyage. Maybe the Mother Serpent was just as eager to see what would transpire between the two travelers and the Kraken Priestess. The ship and the crew got a full view of the tropical jungles of the island, the green and yellow sprinkled with shades of colors melding together creating a calm, vibrant paradise for their eyes.

From the palm trees, coconuts fell on the ground, making small mounds in the sands below. Colourful birds flocked overhead, descending to their nests and to their young ones with food in their beaks. Strange hand-tailed monkeys played along the treetops and the vines, pulling each other's tails, eating fruits and swinging wildly from the vines. All of that was disturbed and broken with the sudden appearance of a massive snake, seeking prey both on the ground and the trees. Spotting a lone and unguarded hand-tail, it crept up behind it and swiftly coiled itself around it before the monkey even knew what was happening. As it squeezed it carefully, sensing its heartbeat slow to a halt, it then began devouring it whole and quickly digesting it. The other creatures simply ran out of the way until it slithered away deeper into the jungle, returning to their activities as if nothing happened.

"Strange how they react to a predator entering their grounds. Aren't they frightened?" Garen asked, witnessing the whole ordeal.

"Why should they care if one of their own got careless? It was its own fault. Besides, the snake simply needed food, nothing more. It loves life as much as they do, it just expresses it differently." Motoi explained the ways of the wild in Buhru.

"But… they just let one of their own die. Are they not a species that travels in groups? They certainly seem like such." Irelia asked.

"They aren't fighters, Ionian. None of them can defeat the snake. They also live too short a life to simply waste time warning the idiot. This way everyone wins. The snake gets its food while the species gets the weakness thinned out of them." Motoi grumbled it out, his patience when it came to outsiders and their ignorant questions not his strongest point.

"Such a crude way to look at things… Why does something have to die just so the others can be better? Why not help it be stronger or teach it?" Irelia commented, for the moment incapable of comprehending the ways of the Isles.

"Because each life has its own choice, you naïve girl. Disrespecting this truth is one of the more certain ways of offending Nagakabouros. Each soul must find its own way before returning to the vortex of life. If it can't then it is useless to this world and a better one should replace it." The old Caller was slowly losing what was left of his patience.

"What she means is why didn't they give it an opportunity to run away? Why didn't your god give it a chance?" Garen simplified it, Irelia thankful that at least someone on this ship was able to understand what she meant. Motoi chose to remain silent lest he lose his mind explaining obvious and basic natural things to these two. Luckily for him, the voyage was nearly over.

As they cleared the straits, the Isle of Buhru revealed itself to them, bathed by the sun's rays and the clear, life-filled waters surrounding it. Even from the distance, the sounds of the seagulls, people and ships could already be heard. The Serpent Horns adorning the coastline loomed on the beaches, their mouths swallowing the seas. As they sailed closer, the ancient buildings became clearer, their colorful carvings and murals dotting their sides. Wooden huts littered the beachside along with many piers, sleek wooden ships and canoes coming to and going from them. The Mermaid reached the harbor, mooring at the trade pier and letting the passengers get a good long look at the new land they were visiting.

The stone formations of the buildings seemingly blended into the view, making them look like small hills colored with many hues, all of which were in the shapes of tentacles, reaching out or coiling around the stone pillars. The small carved openings in the rocks were all different sizes and shapes, as if marking the buildings for the purposes they served. The greenery melded with the formations, as if growing in harmony with them. A plethora of smells overwhelmed their noses, fruits, musk and meat aromas filling the air. The natives went about their lives and desires, each dressed and colored differently from the last, almost as if no two were alike. Garen's senses almost got lost in it all while Irelia's simply moved with the flow. Fizz, having woken up and glad the quiet boring trip was over, hopped on the pier as soon as the brow was extended.

"FINALLY! Oh, you never really miss flapping your gums until you take a ride alongside a disgruntled, wrinkly and reeking Buhru Caller." Fizz blabbed all of his pent up frustrations out, the two days of silence and doing next to nothing taking their toll on him.

"That was the fault of your stomach, not me. I just wanted peace and quiet for two days." Motoi descended down the brow, taking in the scented air, glad to be home once again. Although he preferred traveling, part of him would always miss the colours, smells and waves of Buhru. The people noticed them, a few of them approaching with fruit bowls in their hands while others prepared trades of their own with clothes, fish and exotic spices.

"Well, they sure are welcoming, aren't they?" Garen asked Motoi, but the old caller looked behind the crowds with an expression of both reverence and annoyance. The crowds slowly began dispersing in a line leading towards them, getting Garen and Irelia's attention.

As the parting reached its end, a tall, heavyset woman stood at the center, proud and exuding confidence and strength. She wore a dark green, heavy metal Armour, leather trousers and dark iron boots. The sleeveless red clothes under her Armour revealed her titanic arms, each tattooed with symbols of her faith, further enforced by her strangely designed but no less deadly-looking iron gauntlets. Her long wavy hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, somehow making her look even more masculine. But her two most pronounced features were her eyes and the massive metal ball she hefted on her shoulder. Her eyes were a golden green, a purposeful yet deadly mixture that marked the glow of the great soul behind them. Even from the distance between them, she gazed through the travelers and into the cores of their souls. The metallic ball was bigger than her shoulders combined, but she carried it on them as it made of paper. The glow emanating from the mouth of the carved face almost matched that of her eyes. All of these features made her even more intimidating when she started moving towards them through the crowds, the people wisely moving further out of her way. Upon first seeing her, Garen and Irelia thought she was some sort of warrior or protector of the island, given her large and heavy strides and purposeful look. Upon reaching them, she stood straight, eclipsing both of them like a mountain to a village.

"So… you are the two. Welcome to Buhru, Garen and Irelia." The woman spoke in a deep and wise voice, seasoned with levity.

"My name… is Illaoi." She introduced herself, surprising the two. They did not expect the priestess of the Buhru Isles to be a colossus.

"You... are Illaoi?" Garen wanted to make sure.

"I just said I am, boy. Open your ears or I'll open them for you."

"He didn't mean any offense, priestess. He was just surprised." Irelia defended him. Illaoi just scoffed at the notion.

"I wasn't offended, but I'm slowly becoming such thanks to your antics. He can speak for himself, girl. Let him. Ah, but I digress. Are you two hungry?" She asked them, grabbing a bowl of delicious looking and colorful fruits and offering it to them.

"Well, those were two long days with only oranges and fish… Sure, I could go for something sweet." Irelia felt her stomach growling at the thought.

"I wouldn't mind trying one either." Garen, although not bored of the same food, was curious what they had to offer.

They eyed the fruit bowl, packed with juicy and succulent pineapples, mangoes, bananas, coconuts and many other fruits they didn't even recognize. Irelia went straight for the mango, picking out two for herself while Garen took a while to decide, finally picking out a ripe pineapple, tossing it in the air, drawing his sword and expertly slicing it in half, catching them both in each hand before they were even close to the ground. Illaoi observed them, pleased at what she saw and picked out a larger mango for herself.

"Hey. What about me?" Fizz's voice got Illaoi's attention.

"Well, look who decided to visit Buhru. I trust you are well, little one." Illaoi cleaned the mango a bit, observing the yordle. He seemed restive today, more than usual.

"Not really. That old guy made me be quiet for the trip here. Seriously, not even a chirp. But then again…" Fizz pointed to Motoi, setting up the catch for the deal. Illaoi saw it coming before that.

"I'm guessing you wrangled something in return. Knowing you, it was probably food." Illaoi laughed.

"A whole bowl of mangoes." Fizz stuck his chest and hand out. Illaoi grabbed the largest bowl she could find from one of the peddling boats and gave it to the little yordle, who wasted no time on gratitude and simply chowed down. Satisfied with the yordle, she turned to the other two.

"Do you like them?" She asked her guests, taking a large bite out of the mango, savoring the taste.

"I must say, pineapple is flavorsome. I've never really tried the fruit before I came to the Isles, but ever since I got a taste after that day fighting the Leviathan, I've found myself enjoying it. To a healthy degree, of course." Garen admitted his newfound liking of the fruit.

"I could tell. You were picky, which was good. There's hope for you yet." Illaoi said, swallowing the bite and going for another.

"And you, girl? The way you chew your bites like a baby chimp chewing a bug for the first time, fussing over your weight and form like some teenage girl, I'm thinking you don't like indulging too much." Illaoi observed Irelia's eating habits.

"Well, of course. Too much and I slow down. Too little and get tired out. The right balance must be found, even in food. Especially in food." Irelia commented, not tearing herself away from the mango.

"Yet you keep eating. Good. You two are at least capable." Illaoi finished her mango, shifting the massive ball on her other shoulder and stretching out the loose one.

"Capable? Of what?" Garen asked.

"Motion, Garen. Blessed motion." Illaoi answered. The ball glowed a bit brighter, as if approving her statement.

"What kind of motion?" Irelia asked.

"Whatever kind you want, Irelia. It matters not to my god where you move, only that you do so. _This_ is what matters most." She tapped the centres of their chests.

"Well, this is just as important. Can't leap without looking first, right?" Garen pointed to his head. Illaoi just laughed, hearty and strong.

"Garen, that's about as important as that shrivelled mushroom between a man's legs during baby making. Good for about four seconds, but useless afterwards." Illaoi made the comparison.

"Interesting analogy…" Garen raised an eyebrow in query while Irelia snorted like a pig, barely containing her laughs.

"But a correct one nonetheless." Irelia added through the snorting, earning her a light shove from Garen which set her laughs free, them spreading to many of the girls among the crowd as well.

"Yeah, sure… Laugh it up, dancy-pants. That's really helping this relationship of ours."

"Given your disposition to almost getting killed due to taking levity seriously and seriousness lightly, I'd say it is. Someone needs to screw that Demacian head of yours on properly. Might as well be me." With each quip, they found themselves growing a little closer.

"Pah. I honestly don't see how me bringing levity in situations that sorely need it is harmful… and optimism is in short supply on Runeterra." Garen defended his actions, not admitting even to himself to wanting to prolong these retorts as much as possible.

"Yep. That sentence right there shows why you desperately need someone like me to put your head back on your shoulders when you launch it sky high with your ideals. Lucky for you, I can catch it before it splatters on the ground like a watermelon." Irelia finished her mangoes with a delighted chomp, more out of sense of pride. She toned it down when her own head returned to reality and to Illaoi's face, which was strangely smiling.

"You two are full of life and desire, signs of true faith and wisdom. Well, as far as I'm concerned, at least. Something seems amiss, however." Illaoi shifted her idol yet again, which glowed softly at her observation.

"You seem in motion, yet you only swim in circles. This must be remedied. Come, walk with me." Illaoi bade them to follow, her imposing presence making it sound almost like a command. The two shared a look of uncertainty.

"Well, you're the one who said we shouldn't make religious people angry…" Irelia shrugged.

"That I did. All right, let's get this over with." Garen agreed. Before they continued, they noticed a strange lack of noise and mischief. They turned around to find Fizz with his head in the bowl of mangoes, slowly reducing them to chunks.

"Fizz, you coming?" Irelia got the yordle's attention, making him peek out of the bowl.

"Mmf, hgough ghuysh-"

"Swallow, then talk." Irelia sounded slightly exasperated at his lack of table manners, among other ones.

"Nah, you guys go on. I've been dreaming about this bowl for two straight days and now it's come true. I'm savoring every last bite. I'll find you guys, don't worry. I know my way around Buhru. See ya later!" Fizz waved them goodbye as he dove right back in the bowl, his stomach in complete control over him. Garen and Irelia simply left, shaking their heads in both disapproval and amusement.

They caught up to Illaoi, the Kraken Priestess not even looking back to see if they kept up. If they couldn't, she wouldn't have called them here in the first place. The three climbed a set of long stone stairs, monuments to the different gods of Buhru decorating the sides. Garen and Irelia observed each of the idols, many in the form of a sea creature or another, from turtle to shark. Others closely resembled human-like shapes, but there was always an odd bit out that made them look otherworldly.

"I did not think the Buhru faith had this many deities. Back in Bilgewater, only that one god kept appearing, Nagaka-something something." Garen commented on the new discoveries.

"Nagakabouros. It's a god of life, fertility and desire. A strange god with even stranger ideals…" Irelia filled in his blanks, herself somewhat baffled by the god's dogma.

"Ha! A faithless knight and a motionless dancer. How quaint. And yet you two move and push all before you. I didn't believe Motoi when he came to me with the news, but now my curiosity is peaking. But first thing's first. Come, stand here… and open your eyes." Illaoi stopped and beckoned them, a large smile on her face. Garen and Irelia followed her to the top of the stairs, each standing at her sides. They didn't have to put an effort into opening their eyes. The sight stretching out before them accomplished that.

The greenery was seemingly endless, the huts, stone buildings, carved monuments and colorful markets dotting and lining along the jungle like the specks and strokes of a brush streaking across a green canvas. The sounds of life, desire, joy, challenge, admiration and reverence filled the blue horizon, coupled by the sun's rays illuminating every single motion. Dances, brawls, bartering, drinking, eating and laughing marked the Buhruans' way of living, today being more important to them than tomorrow or yesterday. Strange half-turtle hybrids roamed the outskirts of the settlements, as if guarding them from outside threats. Above it all, on a mountaintop surrounded by the largest trees and the most colorful frescoes stood a massive stone temple, its support columns decorated with stone tentacles while the foliage stretching beneath grew in the form of a river, winding and weaving through the small mountain and touching the edges of the jungle. The roof of the temple was marked by a strange, kraken-like statue carved in the same form of the symbol of Nagakabouros. Although the sun's rays fell on the temple, it still shadowed the settlements beneath it, daunting and intimidating to all who spared a glance, a reminder that Nagakabouros cared little for those who didn't follow themselves and their desires.

Garen and Irelia took a moment to let the astonishment of the view take its root in their mind. Illaoi simply smiled at their reaction. They truly were full of life, more than anyone in the Isles. The directionless circle-walking was holding them back, however. They needed a push or, if that didn't work, a hard shove and a kick in the pants. She wondered if they were worthy souls… and whether they were capable of learning her god's lesson.

"Is it to your liking, you two? Buhru has a charm like no other on Runeterra, not to mention the tasty fruits and scrumptious barbecue. Would you like some?" Illaoi asked. The duo shared another look, deciding to hold off on the pleasantries for a little while.

"Pardon me for saying, but you don't look or act like a holy person, Illaoi." Garen spoke first.

"We haven't heard a single thing about your religion, practices or the god you represent. Are you sure you're a priestess?" Irelia asked, curious and wary. Illaoi once again laughed at their suppositions. They had a lot to learn.

"Freedom _is_ my religion, girl. Motion is the truest expression of chaos and life, which is filled with both danger and love. My god is not a kind one and neither am I. You two accept what is in front of your eyes so easily that you almost cannot hear the truth even when it's being screamed at you. You're awake, but drowsy. Someone really needs to kick you out of your beds." Illaoi walked down the steps towards the temple, her idol shimmering softly. Garen and Irelia could almost hear a hum from it, but it was getting drowned out by the noise of the markets, which they reached and got caught in. The peddling, trading and haggling almost overwhelmed them, far more prevalent and generous than Bilgewater's. Avarice was present, but it was a strangely toned down kind, the lucrative and desiring traders and buyers all knowing what they want yet not wanting more until they get it, whether it was a fruit, linen, a robe, silk, exotic drinks or sharp weapons.

The two adventurers eyed the stalls, commodities and the endless piles of food. Buhru was doing pretty well for an island culture, the simplicity coupled with quantity making for a lively mixture of life and sustainability. Buhruans didn't care much for the troubles of the world, knowing they came and went. Hardships were just as much a part of their lives as pleasures. The priestess noticed their curiosity, pleased that the first steps have already been taken by them.

"Do you see something you like? Feel free to take it, trade for it and when you're done with it, go for another. Go on, live." Illaoi slapped both of them on the shoulders, Irelia nearly falling over while Garen held a wince of pain back.

"Ow… are all of you Buhru priests this uncouth or is it just you, you behemoth of a woman?" Irelia had to let her frustration out. Garen shot a look of worry, part for her shoulder and part for her attitude.

"Ha! You say that like it's a bad thing. Do all Ionians whine as much as you?" Illaoi shot back, the smile not leaving her face for a second.

"Only the ones whose shoulders you nearly shatter." Irelia rubbed the sore spot.

"Pain is good, girl. It lets you know where you need to get stronger… or where to avoid getting hit. Use it." Illaoi shifted the idol on her other shoulder with ease. It used to weigh heavy on her in her younger years, but not anymore. With each lesson taught, the burden got a little lighter… but only a little. Still, she gladly bore it for her people and her god.

"Feel free to mingle, buy something, eat or simply explore. The day is yours until the night starts to overtake it. When that happens, meet me at the temple of Nagakabouros. There is a grand celebration tonight on the mountaintop, in honor of our world and all that belongs to it. Normally I'd skip such celebrations, but I won't pass up a good barbecue." Illaoi offered them a deal. The travelers shared another look, one of uncertainty. Illaoi caught this, gleaning much from that simple gesture about her guests. Motoi didn't tell much about them when he spoke to her, leaving the priestess to ascertain for herself that despite their homes being half a world apart, they somehow became friends. Their beliefs clashed, yet they found common ground. Maybe this was the key to those closed doors of desire in their hearts, both as individuals and as one.

"Wait, priestess. Before any of that, I have a question. Why did you invite us here?" Garen asked, noticing she still never told them what she truly intended.

"What do you want with two travelers who mean you no harm or want to get involved in any affairs of Bilgewater and Buhru?" Irelia's wariness surfaced as well. Illaoi looked thoughtful for a single moment and then smiled.

"To show them the truth." With that final say, she left for the great temple, the crowds clearing the way for her in reverence and fear.

"Strange woman, isn't she?" Garen made the first comment, the Kraken Priestess leaving quite the first impression on him.

"Not what I expected from a holy person… she seems more like a glorified crazy cat lady in a metal frock dragging her ball of twine around." Irelia let loose. Garen just chuckled at the comment.

"What's so funny?"

"Still sore about your shoulder, huh lady Xan?" He pierced that snide remark to its core.

"Hey, when you get slapped with a heavy meat slab that looks like a hand, you wouldn't be so prickly about my mood." Irelia quipped back.

"And don't call me 'lady'. That makes me sound royal or something similar." She wasn't entirely honest about that last one, a detail he decided to capitalize on.

"I beg to differ, milady. Why, your beauty and grace make you worthy of divinity, an aspiration and jealousy of all kings and queens." His chuckle at the end betrayed that he was full of it.

"Wow… you really need that much after that mushroom comment, huh?"

"Hey, I'm a wandering Demacian in a land of fish-religious people with a priestess that cares more about barbecue than sermons and top of that stuck with a yordle that puts clams on my bed sheets and an Ionian who makes fun of me at almost every turn of the corner. I'll take what I can get." Garen stretched out, letting out the soreness and taking the sun and saltwater air. Irelia looked back to the stairs of the hill.

"Do you think Fizz will be fine? I mean, I know he'll be fine, but I'm worried about what he might do around here. I don't think his pranks will be appreciated by many people around here. They seem so… self-centered." Irelia expressed her concern and observations. Despite, or perhaps because of their religion's preaching, the Buhru were indeed loyal to themselves foremost.

"From what I've seen and heard, he'll be ok. He's a joker, but he doesn't go overboard with things and he said he'd been here before, so he probably knows his way around the area and the people." Garen surmised. He then turned to the markets, searching for something to grab his eye and interest. Irelia turned to him, eyeing him curiously.

"See something you like? What's the currency here? Can we buy anything if we wanted to? Because I don't know about you, but I'm not spending an hour haggling for a sword or a cloth." Irelia decided to do her self-appointed job as his sense of direction, although she didn't admit she just wanted him not spend their entire day searching for weapons, Armour, provisions or something to help them return home. They were in Buhru on an invitation, but there was no reason not to see the sights, share in customs and maybe learn a dance or two. People here seemed to appreciate the motions of a skilled and passionate dancer, at least from the few glances she took at their dancers.

"Ha. It seems Miss Xan wants to enjoy her vacation after all. Here I thought you didn't have it in you to ground the sarcasm and let loose." Garen spoke, taking the lead through the markets.

"Hey, I'm a very adventurous, outgoing and explorative person. I was just… uhm…"

"Too busy being edgy and moody to let the sunshine pierce your brooding heart, Miss Xan?" His sly smile was riling her up and he noticed.

"Keep flapping that glorified word cave of yours and I'll pierce that shriveling mushroom between your legs."

"You just had to come back to the mushroom analogy, didn't you?" And now, it was her turn to do the same to him.

"Well, I _could_ get creative with your preference of oversized swords or your overeager bravado, but we're friends so I want to give you a fighting chance. Besides, as your Demacian saying goes, why reinvent the wheel?" Irelia gained the upper hand on this one, her smug expression knowing he had no chance. Garen just scoffed in defeat.

"Real cute… Alright, dancy-pants. I'll give you this one. Stay on your toes, though. Wouldn't want to let this Demacian prove just how inferior Ionia's wittiness can be, would you?" He conceded with questionable grace.

"Heh. Only when the sun goes out for good, maybe." She nevertheless accepted it. Throughout the banter, they walked and observed the markets and people, each of them different and unique. They all had their place in Buhru, yet they moved and spoke like they had a different purpose. The orderly chaos was a rather far cry from the pure one in Bilgewater. Maybe this is what that city needed; a unified culture, one that would bring its greed to heel. Unfortunately, Bilgewatians were a lot more independent than Buhruans, especially where profit was concerned.

"It's… a colorful place, isn't it? I mean, I know markets are meant to be colorful, but it's more than I've seen back home or in Bilgewater." Garen observed, eyeing some of the doodads, particularly the seashell and shark tooth necklaces, their intricate and delicate weaves and patterns showing Buhru's way of living and creating.

"Not as colorful as the great forest markets back in Ionia. Not as lurid, either. Back home, trade was loud but fast. You got one item and then the next came almost a moment later. Nowadays, though… things have settled down. Not a lot of trading when people mourn the loss of what they had. A lot of things have changed…" She looked forlorn all of a sudden.

"Huh… back in Demacia, I frequented markets very rarely. Coming from the second most prestigious family in Demacia, we seldom did the shopping ourselves, always having things delivered to our estate or the serfs buy them, whatever we desired." Gared admitted. Between his military duties, appointed position as leader of the Vanguard, peacekeeping and resolving family affairs, he rarely had any time to himself or for his family members. His parents spent their time in High Silvermere, his mother taking care of family finances and his father stubbornly refusing to retire and hang up his boots, his position as the city guard's captain both a job and a formality. At times, he thought of sneaking out and riding across the countryside towards Silvermere, but his aunt was _not_ a tolerant woman when it came to shirking duties or lax in security to her kingdom. Sometimes he feared her more that the evading or excuse making, especially since she could see right through his white lies.

Luxanna was an entirely different folder by herself.

Recent revelations and Irelia's comments made him reconsider a lot of Demacia's ways and laws, but he wondered if the kingdom itself was ready for them. People weren't ready to welcome magic, especially with recent events.

Maybe it could've all been averted if they just tried to understand, like Luxanna said…

It didn't matter right now. What mattered was getting there alive, not in pieces or as tragic news.

"Thinking about Demacia again?" Irelia correctly guessed.

"Am I getting that obvious?"

"Well, you get this little knot between your eyebrows when you think about something related to it. That and when you talk about serious stuff." She told him of his habits. Maybe they weren't habits at all, just his current mood as a consequence to his predicament.

"I just… miss it. Even more so, now that I… I…" It seemed it was the latter. They both suddenly felt very lost among the crowds, even though there weren't many people. Garen's mind felt that cold grip again, the icy fingers tightening around his thoughts. He fought it off this time; despite everything that happened, he would keep fighting and if he fell, he would get back up again. His strength felt limited all of a sudden, however. How long would this go on? Would he still be able to summon it each time this happened?

Before his thoughts could continue, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll find a way." Once again, he forgot how capable she was of sharing her strength. He didn't want to rely on it too much, however. Hers was limited as well.

"You're right. No point in dawdling. Come on, then. We came here on an invitation, but might as well enjoy ourselves. I saw a weapon stand down the road. Hmmm… maybe a shield for the road too, something to remember this place by." He looked lighter and slightly giddier.

"Oh, for the love of- We're not picking up more weapons, alright? Get yourself something nice, not sharp and pointy." Irelia admonished him.

"You're right. You're already edgy enough for both of us." He skillfully took advantage of her guard being down, the sly smile salting the cut.

"…I hate you." It was her turn to concede.

And throughout it all, neither of them minded losing. The day was all theirs and they would spend it together.

"Yo! Garen! Irelia! Wait up!" All three of them, as a little blue yordle, mouth and face a mess from his ways with food, was running towards them through the crowds.

Illaoi stepped in the ancient temple of Nagakabouros' entry hall, built long before any of the current nations were even established. Some of the historians of the temple kept records of it being made at the same time as the Shuriman Empire. No matter what the truth was, she didn't care. Today was what mattered most. Yesterday was irrelevant and tomorrow no use worrying about.

"Took your sweet time getting here, girl." An aging man carrying a staff of carved ironwood adorned with a dragon shark tooth welcomed her. His rugged and slightly torn robes were colored dark red with emerald seams. His large wooden headpiece was decorated with a symbol of soaring albatross, a mark of his tribe.

"We all move in our own pace, Hoku. All that matters is that we do." The priestess placed the idol onto a pedestal, the glow slightly dimming as if resting for a spell.

"Aye, but Nagakabouros waits for no one. Life moves on… and so do the preparations which you have been neglecting." Hoku walked with her to a grand circular chamber, where both chiefs, warriors, peddlers and cooks were preparing it for the celebration. All the chieftains of the tribes were there, as it was both an opportunity to strengthen relations and to honor the god that gave them the gift of wisdom, strength and instinct, with the courtesy of the gifts delivered to them by its priestess. Eating delicious food and drinking the finest drinks wouldn't hurt, either. Illaoi stepped in the centre, taking a good look around; tables and chairs, bowls of fruits, barrels of wine and other alcohols and a totems and frescoes of Nagakabouros being set around the chamber. It was their holy ground, in a way; the Test of Spirit was performed here, a trial most sacred to the Buhru. It tested the deepest parts of the soul by the simple yet effective method of dragging it out. The ones being tested were either forced to swim, move through the currents of life or drown forever and return their souls to the vortex to begin anew, hopefully on a better host. The oldest tales spoke of souls so worthy of the god's blessing and of life that they found a way back from the flow, their will greater than any of the common rabble, as she termed it. It was her duty to seek out these souls, though her search yielded less than pleasing results. Gangplank had found a way back, but he became too engrossed with planning his retake of Bilgewater. She didn't stand in his way as it would just be pointless and backward-going, seeing as how she took the time to kick him towards his goal. Buhru kept him a secret, but Bilgewater thought him dead. It would be the perfect opportunity for him. Most importantly, his vengeance had a goal, a young woman that daringly deposed him, setting him in motion once more. It made Illaoi wonder whether she was worthy of the test, but that was shelved for now.

"As long as the great fire stone pit is ready to cook that delicious pork, everything's fine." She savored the taste in her mind, eager for her tongue to feel it. She walked to one of the balconies of the temple, adorned with fragrant flowers and decorations, the scents and foliage too small to obscure the marvellous sight of the sprawling green and blue below, however. She allowed herself these sights from time to time. No point in moving if you don't find any joy in the motion. Illaoi looked below to the crowds, taking in the energy. Every soul, every movement, every desire and every emotion filled her with strength and gave her the joy she wished for. Her god's teachings were silent, often learned with a breath of fresh air, a wave about to crash on one's head or a simple smack across the face. Views like this were usually the culmination of said learning. True peace comes only at the end, but until then, the storm and winds of chaos and change stirred the ocean, preventing it from stagnating and being tainted with mire and muck. As she searched the crowds, she spotted the three guests even from this distance, their strides seemingly cleaving a way through the rivers of people. The Demacian's pride radiated, almost as much as his vigil as he treaded through the stream, it parting the way for him. A keen-eyed and protective eagle if there ever was one. The Ionian flowed through the currents of the crowd with grace and poise, her soul aflame yet her will that of steel. A phoenix risen anew from her ashes and with newfound purpose.

Two birds flying across Runeterra, with the winds guiding them to their destinies. If only they trusted them a bit more, maybe their journey would've been easier. Or perhaps this was only the first test of their will, to show Nagakabouros that they were truly able to spread their wings and cross the world, marvelling its wonders, enjoying its pleasures, loving its beauty, eating their favorite food, clawing at their enemies and destroying all they disliked.

"Sightseeing? That's rare of you." Motoi's voice turned her attention. His disapproving expression always managed to bring both amusement and pity to her face.

"Better than grumping about people. It's not all as bad as you make it out to be." Illaoi bantered with the world-weary Caller, who scoffed in return.

"Tell me that after you've travelled it and seen the worst and lowest it has to offer. I swear, no matter where you go, it's all the same. People only think about death and how good it would look on them and someone else." He sounded drained beneath the tirade. Illaoi usually forgot that beneath the grump lay a tired old man who had seen too much of Runeterra's troubles. He knew he was unfortunate enough to be born in the previous tumultuous period, during the Noxus-Ionia war and the rebirth of Shurima. Before he took up his mother's role, he was an adventurer, much like their guests. He was always grumpy after he returned home from his adventures, but seeing them must have reminded him of his former spirit and thirst for adventure. He still kept himself going, just not in the direction he wanted, taking solace in the fact that he was allowed to complain a lot more in his twilight years.

"The world has been still for a long time, yes. But now, it is slowly being roused from its sleep. Legends of old or their influences are seeping back into the chronicles of time, shaking the world with revelations. New legends rise, eager to make their mark. Say what you will, old man, but the time we live in is a turning point. Nagakabouros is eager more than she ever has been before. I don't think I need to tell you what that means." Illaoi grabbed another mango from a nearby fruit bowl. Although it was for the celebration, it was also food and not to be discarded. She turned back down to the crowds, observing the two birds and the wandering mischief maker. There was something about them that made Illaoi curious even before they arrived here. Sterak's Fists were on each of their hands, the Tidal Trickster was beside the Ionian and a slain Mother Leviathan lay at the feet of the Demacian. Such achievements were worthy of legends, yet they moved like any other soul, following the flow until it led them to their destination. The yordle she didn't care much for; spirits like him had a way around the trials of Nagakabouros, yet they didn't disrupt or add to the flow. They simply existed, bringing joy and empathy to those who needed it and were deserving of it. The birds were different; they were worthy of glory and renown, their strength apparent in their deeds and their will unmatched in their goal. And throughout it all, Illaoi couldn't help but feel they lacked something. She wanted to find out what.

"Look at them… I still can't believe that boy brought down a matron of the ocean and that girl befriended Fizz. They were extraordinary in their feats. Before they came here, they had another encounter, another feat to add to both of their tallies." Motoi spotted them as well, unable to comprehend how such individuals seemed normal compared to the deeds they accomplished.

"Oh? Pray tell, you old goat. What did they do?" Illaoi grew curious.

"The boy encountered the River King, who offered him a bargain. He resisted his lure and turned him down, old Two-Coats unable to harm him afterwards. The girl encountered a half-drowned phantom, something that wasn't of the Harrowing. She fought him off with only a scratch to show for it, grabbing hold of a sapphilite sac in the process. She is currently one of the richest people on the Isles and she is fully aware of it."

"They are more than capable of motion, of churning the seas of this world and breaking through its winds. They think they need to move only when necessary, however… Ah, so that's what it was!" Illaoi took a large bit out the mango, her eyes lighting up with a piercing revelation.

"Wait… you're not thinking what I think you're thinking? They haven't been to Buhru that long and you haven't known them long enough to do _that_." Motoi looked appalled as soon as he saw that expression on her face.

"That's what tonight is for, old man. Well, that and the salted pork and coconut milk." Illaoi finished her fruit, turning to the preparations, finally having found a reason to help out. Motoi simply followed her, fearing for tonight and tomorrow.

The dancers drew quite the gathering, the fluid forms and motions of the graceful females and the willful and loud hakas of the strong males each capturing and holding different kinds of attentions. The warm-up for tonight's celebrations affected some of those in the crowds, many of them joining in the dances or even getting tips from the dancers.

All in all, an eventful afternoon… with three travelers to put the cherry of delight on top of the sweet mixture.

"No." Garen's tone implied finality.

"Oh, come on. It'll be fun." Irelia went on despite the protests.

"Garen? 'Fun'? There's a concept I'd like to see realized." Fizz commented.

"Hey, I can be fun when I want to. I just… think there is a time, place and appropriate wording and/or situation to go with it." Garen stood his ground as he was wont to do. His friends decided to betray him this day and use his sense of humor against him, it seemed. Judging by the way they looked at each other when he said that, they were just starting to climb all over his back.

"So… whenever you're near death, in chains, depressed, about to sell your soul or fighting off monsters. Good to know your sense of humor is as unique as ever." Irelia kept the pressure on. He was strange with his humor and definitely not something she was used to, but she appreciated his efforts and his spirit. Fizz thought he had a few sticks up his arse, but he worked on removing them and he didn't mind his antics too much.

"Better than clams stinking up my bed and sardines making me slip on my way to the bathroom." He had his limits, though. Fizz was used to people shunning him or his antics and tolerating him at best, but Garen and Irelia were a breath of fresh air in the Serpent Isles. Although stoic was his default mood, Garen was capable of curiosity, empathy and the occasional banter and joking. Irelia, despite her claims, was eerily similar, the only difference between the two was the order in which these traits showed; Irelia was more open-minded and curious, but could turn serious at an instant when situation demanded it while Garen was vigilant and intense, but grew inquisitive and attentive when things calmed down. The little yordle noticed they also had an interesting chemistry when their traits met in the middle; the mixture created a strange friendship, with trysts, cares, dangers, arguments and an extraordinary amount of quips. It held them together through a lot of trouble, both outer and inner, and allowed them to understand each other on a deeper basis, beneath all the soldiering, dancing, stances on magic and politics. It also made him a bit more curious about their journey and humans in general. The race that dominated Runeterra seemed so complex to him and his kind that he never truly bothered much with them, just like his terrestrial cousins didn't. The thoughts combined with his audacious heart created a sense of curiosity inside him as well. Maybe he would stay with them a while longer.

"Pffft. I should've put a mirror in front of you as well. Your face during that whole thing was priceless." Fizz grinned his devilish grin, earning a scowl from Garen and a chuckle from Irelia.

"What, do I have some bullseye on my back that says 'Pester endlessly' or 'Poke until annoyed' on the center?" Garen complained, knowing from past experiences that his seriousness and attitude made him an easy target for jokes.

"Well, that is a pretty wide back. And your shoulders help as well." Irelia patted him on the place in question with a rather hard slap. Both her and Fizz loaded up another round, but it was not to be fired as they stopped in front of a dancing group. Once she saw them, Irelia's curiosity was immediately captured by the motions, particularly those of the arm waves, belly shaking and hip circling. She wondered if it would be possible to ask them to teach her these complex and graceful dances, as a worthy souvenir to bring home. Maybe there were other forms around the world as well, undiscovered and waiting to be taught to someone who truly appreciates their meaning. Garen, on the other hand, grew curious about the so-called haka. It was a dance of war, meant to signify strength, pride, unity and challenge. It involved simple yet powerful moves, something that suited him. As both of them turned back to each other, the curio lingered long enough for them to catch it in the other.

"Wait… what was that?" Irelia asked, grabbing the moment by the neck, ready to shake it for all the merit it has.

"I, uh… well, I mean… It just… looks simple an easy to do, you know?" Garen squirmed, knowing she enjoyed it a bit too much.

"Is the proud, magnificent, daring, dashing, stalwart, stout and brave Hero of Demacia interested in the refined, elegant and gentle art of dancing?" And there she went. He was having a lot of trouble thinking all of a sudden.

"I mean… new ones are nice to learn, right?" His mouth said the words before his mind recovered, the only action it could perform being a swift mental kick in the behind. And then he heard it again, that adorable and honest laugh of hers that made him unable to fight back. He wondered if she knew what a tedious task it became to retort when she did that.

"So you _do_ dance and have an actual interest in it." It slowly became sly.

"Like I said before, I only attended enough to learn and master the basics. Waltzing was… a bit too light for my tastes." Garen admitted his thoughts on dancing. He only learned enough to keep his dancing partners entertained and happy without committing too much. Duty came first, after all.

"Waltzing? Is that what the form is called?" She got even more curious.

"Yes. It requires… well… actually, it would take too long to explain and we don't really have the time for long lectures." He shrugged it off. Irelia grew even more curious but decided not to press it, seeing as how he was right.

"Why don't you guys learn the dances, then? Y'know, just for tonight and enough as to not embarrass yourselves? Actually scratch that last part…" Fizz suggested, implications of both of his friends tripping over a table and/or face-first into a dish of any kind just barely escaping him. Garen and Irelia shared another look.

"You're right. The haka seems easy enough to learn and I could use both proof and culture of my time in Buhru to bring back home." Garen looked eastward, a look of longing and steel on his face. It would be a difficult journey, but he would make it.

Irelia's face changed when Garen mentioned home, jabs and jokes slowly fading. Despite his determination and her encouragement, reality slapped them both across the face, the pain only now being felt on her cheek. The blockade went as far the Freljord's icy coasts and the Serpentine Delta. Noxus suffered a defeat, but they licked their wounds rather fast. She wondered if she could truly help him find a safer way through it.

"Irelia? Hellooooo?" Fizz called out to her, bringing her out of her mind.

"Oh! Sorry, Fizz. Did you say something?"

"I was gonna point you to a lady that knows how to teach you those dance moves you liked so much, but now I'm kinda worried about that thousand-mile look on your face. You ok?" He asked. She turned to Garen, who was already in talks with a young but burly man dressed in nothing but dark green pants and armbands, his skin decorated with tattoos. She turned back to Fizz, who had a look of not only worry but understanding as well. She sometimes forgot that he was smarter than he looked.

"I am, but I'm worried about Garen. He's having a hard time finding a way home through the blockade." Irelia let her worries out.

"What blockade? Come to think of it, he has been bothered more than usual ever since that night we fought off that Pyke guy. I thought maybe it was a nasty first experience for him, but he got over it in a splash. It was something else that was troubling him, huh?" Fizz asked. Irelia slapped herself mentally; they kept him out of their loop of troubles even though he was trying his best to help them. Legends and moderately reliable witness accounts spoke of yordles having a timeless nature, surpassed only by their empathy. Perhaps there was some truth to these accounts.

"I'm sorry, Fizz. We've kept you out of our plights, thinking we would trouble you too much or that you wouldn't understand. We didn't want to bother you since they might be too heavy for you." She explained. Fizz looked thoughtful for a few seconds, but then flashed his smile.

"Nah, don't worry about it. I can sometimes get wrapped up in my own pranks that I forget you two have a lot on your shoulders. And while it may be true that some of the things my friends carry might be a bit heavy for me…" He hopped up to her and grabbed her hand.

"… it doesn't mean I won't try to share that burden with them." He looked her in the eyes, making sure she understood and acknowledged every word he said. Humans were odd to him and his kind, but they were capable of great compassion and that trait only showed itself if it was drawn out of them. It took an extraordinary effort to do so, but the results were worth it. Judging by her smile, it worked wonders. Perhaps there was more to humans than met the yordle eye.

"How can someone so short and mischievous be capable of such kindness?" Irelia gave him a pat on the head.

"Well, aside from the fact that I'm the best thing that's ever happened in the Isles, yordles tend to be emphatic and I'm no different. I just… give to people who need _and_ deserve it. Friends are on the top of that list and you and Garen are near the top of the friends list." Fizz tapped his trident down in affirmation.

"Oh? And who's on top of the friends list?"

"Myself and Chomper. Duh."

"Good answer."

"Now, what's this about a blockade?" Fizz asked, ready to help in any way he could.

"That empire I mentioned before, the one that wants our heads? Their ships blocked every sea passage from the Freljord to the Serpentine Delta. Garen has no way to travel to the west without being caught." Irelia explained Garen's predicament.

"Huh… Don't know much about Noxians, but I've heard they're vicious and brutal. Didn't think they'd block a whole ocean, though… Well, if you can't take the problem head-on, go around it. Simple, yeah?" Fizz suggested.

"It is and Garen would like that. The only real issue is _how_. To the north, the passages are under control of a tribe called the Frostguard. Well, more like a kingdom-sized cult. They believe the Freljord belongs to no one but them. Further down is another tribe, the Winter's Claw. They're warmongers, no different than Noxus and at war with all of the Freljord. Neither of them is going to just let him through, a lone Demacian separated from his home and with no allies. And that's just the north. The jungles of Shurima are to the south." Irelia looked grim; it would take a miracle for Garen to survive the journey, coupled with an extraordinary amount of luck. What troubled her most, however, was his stubbornness. He would take even the slimmest shot if it meant having just having an opportunity at getting through. He had the strength and will now… the one she shared with him…

The cold grip on her mind resurfaced violently, a shark baring its teeth and clasping its jaws around her will, signaled by her crest slowly shivering. He would try it and she would again be responsible for the harm that came his way.

"Yeah, even I know the dangers of Shurima's jungles… Well, then you should go further than that." Fizz's suggestion snapped her out of it.

"What do you mean? How much further can one go? What if there are more dangers that he won't know about?" There was a lot on her mind and it certainly didn't take an empath or a mind reader to know that.

"What I mean is 'go around the whole thing.' If all of Noxus is separating him from his home, which is literally on the other side of the planet, then go the opposite way and reach it from there. There are fewer enemies in the way, right? Maybe some sea monsters, sure, but it's nothing we can't handle." Fizz spoke with a satisfied smile on his face. Irelia's mind slowly connected the words and pieced the puzzle of what he was saying. Her face lit up brighter and brighter with every piece placed until finally she understood. The words somehow found their way to her mouth.

"You mean to… say… I should take him to… to Ionia?"

Despite them leaving her mouth, she had trouble hearing her own words. The idea was something that hadn't crossed her mind; what would happen if she took him back to her homeland? Garen's views and stances on magic were clear to her; he did _not_ approve of it and had very good reasons not to. Bringing him to the land of magic would be like stabbing a searing poker into thin ice. It would also drive him further away from Demacia and into a chaotic land, still recovering from a war with an outside force and in one with itself. And those were only a few of the questions from _his_ side of the issue. What would the people of her land think of him? What if the Brotherhood got a word of him? They would surely target him as well; there was no difference to them between outsiders and Noxians. And what about the creatures of the land? What about the vastaya? What about Ionia herself?

Her head started spinning a little, forcing her to take a deep breath and steady both her body and mind. That one moment separated her from the bustle, which once again came crashing down on her. Suddenly, she felt a sharp poke on her left thigh.

"Ow! What- Fizz!"

"Good. You're back. Seriously, Irelia. You keep spacing out. Should I be worried?" Fizz looked concerned, something not taken lightly as she learned from previous experiences.

"I'm fine. I'm just… distracted by all the things happening to me all at once." She confessed.

"Hey, you remember what I just said a minute ago, right? Sharing." Fizz twirled his trident and took her hand. The look of gratitude on her face was more than enough assurance for him. Her eyes found Garen again, who looked pleased due to having secured a performance lesson. A moment later, she turned to Fizz with a purposeful expression.

"Fizz, I know this seems rude to ask of you, given everything you said, but I need to talk to Garen about this in private. He's known me longer and it's my home I'm inviting him to. So please… don't tell him about the idea until I've shared it with him." She half-expected him to turn away in a huff, but he just grinned a happy grin yet again.

"So you'll actually do it? I'm glad my advice is being listened to at least." He looked content. Irelia was taken aback by his reaction, a tiny part of her curious as to why that was so.

"Thank you for understanding. I'm… Forgive me, but I didn't expect you to understand so quickly." Irelia felt the need to be more open with him, including the surprises.

"Eh, there's a lot I don't get about you humans either, but talking and spending time with you guys made me realize I only tried communication and relationships with them _my_ way. Maybe I should try and find some common ground…" He looked thoughtful. The sight warmed Irelia's heart, as if watching someone grow and learn. Not a lot of that was seen on Runeterra.

"Glad to be of assistance as well, Fizz." She slightly bowed, turning her sight on Garen once more, the Demacian carefully observing the dance leader and the rest of the troupe. A small plan formed in her head; when they attended tonight's celebration, she would tell him her intentions. It would give her the time to formulate the proper words, learn a few dances of Buhru and give Garen time to enjoy himself. With everything that has happened to them this past month and half, they have more than earned it, even if it was for a brief few hours. She turned to Fizz, who looked eager to spend the rest of his day having the most fun he could. He pointed towards a middle-aged woman who stood in front of the female dancers, complimenting some and admonishing others. A simple nod and he was off, causing mischief, cursing and laughter on his rampage. Irelia headed towards the teacher, eager to learn more forms of what she loved most.

The day was theirs to enjoy and love, free from the burdens of their quest for the precious briefest moments.

* * *

The stars burned the canvas of the beyond, illuminating the clear night above Buhru. Below their gaze, the natives of the Serpent Isles were lighting up and shaking the earth with their festivities, dances, songs, laughter, eating, drinking and seemingly endless merriment. Their nature of chaos and freedom flowed freely throughout the night, their god's teachings prevalent in every action. The true spectacle was yet to come, however. In the middle of the festivities, a great bonfire was lit with a large crowd eagerly awaiting the event around it. Amidst the crowds, Irelia and Fizz wandered, looking for their Demacian companion.

"I don't get it. Where could he possibly be?" Irelia was getting a little worried. She was wearing a light green long skirt decorated on the belt with the sweetest-smelling flowers from Buhru. Her light blue bodice, something called a 'pari' by the Buhru, fit snugly across her upper body, a little too snugly seeing as how she was attracting a lot of attention from the young adult population. The crown of chrysanthemums on her head complimented her long blue hair perfectly, earning her even more attention especially from the females. All in all, a lot of eyes were on her. Moments like these made her a bit self-conscious about her looks and form, another reason she preferred solitude.

"He'll be here. We're just early." Fizz, wearing a mock skirt and a coconut helmet, soothed her.

"Early? We agreed we'd all meet here when the festivities started. _He_ is late." She was on edge, the crest behind her threatening to split. Fizz just shrugged and grabbed a cut coconut, drinking the delicious milk.

"He'll be here, Irelia. Just relax, alright? Grab a fruit or something."

"Right, right… Relax…" She breathed in, steadying her mind. She grabbed the nearest mango her hands could find, taking a large bite out of it. The crowds were slowly settling down, signalling the beginning of the event; the performing of the haka. A sacred and traditional dance to the warriors of the tribes, it was often used as a challenge. On celebrations, however, it represented the performing tribe's pride and strength. Irelia was a bit curious to see how the dance was performed.

Loud roars suddenly filled the air as the warriors took the stage, each clad in their tribe's colours and tattoos, with only skirts, armbands and headbands on their bodies. They skillfully arranged themselves into three rows, the shortest in front with the tallest in the back. As they all took a crouching position, Fizz began snickering, spotting someone in the back row.

"Fizz, don't be rude." Irelia reprimanded him, but Fizz just pointed her to the stand-out with badly painted tattoos and overly-eager and hilarious expression on his face. Irelia recognized him, embarrassment and disbelief overwhelming her as much as the palm on her face.

"No… Please, no…" She wanted to wake up, but the sight of Garen being part of the haka, with nothing but blue pants, flimsily decorated headdress and impermanent tattoos that looked like the work of a five-year old's fingers decorating his face was part of reality, it seemed. Fizz was having trouble holding the storm of laughter behind his throat; one bad move and it was all over, from either of them.

The warriors began the dance, powerful stomps and arm slaps signalling the start. Standing tall in the back row, Garen kept pace with the chants and moves like it was nothing, fervently performing the next steps, roars, chest slaps and tongue stick-outs. Irelia's embarrassment and Fizz's snickering evaporated, replaced by awe and respect. For an uptight knight, he performed the movements flawlessly. Irelia was pleasantly amused by the fact that he seemed to put his heart into learning the dance and by how enthusiastic he looked doing it. He was genuinely having fun, even when the dance was winding down into simple callouts and stomps. It finished as it began, with a grand roar from the dancers as if inviting or intimidating the crowd, which only erupted in cheer and applause, Irelia and Fizz joining as well. When it settled down, however, was when the true and more memorable event began. Garen, spotting Irelia in the crowds, yelled out something in the natives' language, pointing toward her. In an instant, the other dancers complied with a yell and formed a short line from him to her. Throughout the event, Irelia stood perplexed and muddled. Garen suddenly began another haka, slowly stomping towards her, slapping and punching his chest, Irelia standing frozen and utterly dumbfounded.

"G-Garen? Wh-what are you- Whoa, hey h-hey…" She tried communicating, but Garen simply kept advancing. Beside her, the crowd cheered and chuckled, Fizz himself already laughing his fins out. Irelia felt trapped in the weirdness with the only way out being through the man- no, the nuttiness spirit currently possessing Garen.

He stopped a half a meter in front of her, crouching in a form of challenge and sticking out his tongue. Garen, the noble, vigilant, adamant and proud knight of Demacia now stood in front of her in badly painted war paint, a skirt and in the most ridiculous pose with the most ridiculous expression on his face. It was almost too surreal. The chants from the warriors continued in a lower but deeper tone, all of them wearing smiles on their faces. Irelia's mind returned just enough to remember the meaning of the haka; expression of strength, pride and challenge. She was being challenged in some form and judging by the small wink Garen gave her, it was a mock challenge. A thought slithered out from the deepest, most impish and most childish corners of her mind, skillfully worming its way up to her eyes and mouth. It was a perfect night to be exuberant and as always, Garen provided a way toward what she wanted and needed.

She mimicked his crouch, spread her arms and roared back as loud as she could. She didn't care how silly she looked or how immature they acted. Both of them let their inner child out, free from the constraints of reason, both trying to outdo the other in childishness. The crowds joined in with cheers, bets and laughs. After half a minute of 'challenges' and tongue stick-outs, it culminated in a final stare-down, with Garen and Irelia locking heads and pushing toward the other. Fizz and the crowds rooted them on while the warriors' chant became louder, complimented by their stomps. As their headlock neared its climax, they both reared back at the same time, gathering all their strength in their necks. Their heads then collided in a headbutt, silencing the crowd and the chants as they swayed lightly. A few seconds later, Irelia collapsed backwards with the most ungraceful thud, her legs and crest almost comically flipping up before coming down while Garen shook off the dizziness. As he, Fizz and the crowd recovered from the spectacle, he yelled in triumph, goading the crowd along with their own mirth and liveliness. Fizz's brain shut down, his only bodily functions being rolling on the floor and laughing.

All in all, it was an unforgettable start of the night.

Irelia slowly came to a moment later, blinking off the drowsiness. She looked up to see Garen's smile and extended hand.

"What is your head made of, anyway? Brass or something?" She asked, taking his hand and rising to her feet, rubbing her sore and slightly bruised forehead.

"That was the most hilarious thing I have ever seen and I'm the cause of the more hilarious things in the Isles." Fizz restored his brain and bodily functions, joining his friends.

"Well, I'm glad _someone_ got to laugh…" Irelia was miffed from being trounced and made the center of amusement. She eyed Garen once more, looking pleased with himself even through the paint on his face.

"Ok, fess up, Hero. What the heck **was** that?!" Her surprise and curiosity were unable to be contained anymore.

"What? It was just a dance. You… do know what a dance is, don't you?" His teasing got to her more than all the other times, partially because this time, she was soundly defeated in front of a crowd. She silently swore revenge, preferably something that involved him drenched I bile or naked in front of a crowd.

"You acting like a possessed monkey while painted in the artwork of a five-year old does _not_ qualify as dancing. I mean, I honestly thought some sort of spirit entered you and rendered you cracked. Not that you weren't before, but you know…" Irelia dusted herself off and went on through the festival, grabbing as much food as she could take to heal her wounded pride, though unaware of subconsciously grabbing a pineapple for Garen and a small blanket.

"Oh, _I_ was the monkey? And who began instinctively following my lead and act like a monkey herself, hmm?" He had her by the neck and he knew it.

"That's… Well… I didn't- All I d-did was- oh, screw it. Yes, I acted like a monkey too. But only to make you happy, got it?! It's n-not like I was enjoying it or anything…" The little blush on her cheeks betrayed her happiness even in the darkening calm of the beach they were heading towards. A few sconces were lit just enough to illuminate the crashing waves, the soothing sounds of the sea and the festivities close by giving the three companions peace.

"Ah, the sea at night… With everything that's happened over the past month and a half, I sorely need some relaxation." Irelia put her uneaten fruits down on the small blanket she unrolled and sat down on the sand, eager to rest her soul.

"No arguments there." Garen stretched out before washing off his face and joining her, grabbing the pineapple.

"Let me get that for ya." Fizz offered, Garen handing him the pineapple which Fizz skillfully cut in half with his trident. Garen offered him one half, the little yordle eager to get some food in his stomach after the laughter emptied it of air along with his lungs.

They looked out to the twin oceans of water and stars, the great canvas of the beyond fully painted with distant shimmering lights while soothing waves danced along the endless water's surface. Behind them, lights and sounds calmed their ears along with the waves, the fresh sea air mixed with the scents of the fruits working wonders for their lungs and noses. They took a bite out of their fruits, Irelia grabbing another pear while Garen and Fizz chowed down on the pineapple they split. The light sea breeze soothed their skins while the sand beneath softly held them. With all of their senses in the gentle hands of the night's elements, the trio enjoyed the finite peace and quiet.

"Moments like these make it worthwhile, don't they?" Irelia breathed out, taking in all she could before it faded away like it always did.

"It's what we have left when the fighting is done. Sometimes, we must remind ourselves of that by experiencing it." Garen spoke the truth. Peaceful times were not long in this world of chaos, leaving it up those who fought for such to make them last as long as possible. True peace never stayed though no one ever truly wondered why, only chalking it up to nature or some other force beyond control.

"To be honest, sitting still was never my forte. Don't know what I'd do without some fun and trouble…" Fizz confessed, turning Garen and Irelia's attentions to him.

"That can't be true. Surely you must have _some_ goal or something to look forward to besides the next prank?" Irelia asked. Fizz's mind opened that webbed and musty door; what would he do when everyone was happy and no one needed him? Would he fade unremembered by history and folktales? Would the humans, vastaya and even the gods forget his kind? What did he look forward to? What did the future hold for him?

"I… honestly don't know. I haven't gone out far from the Isles and I don't really have a home to return to. My future is kinda vague, if I'm being real…" Fizz looked sad and uncertain. There was also something beneath the face, a confession waiting to surface. He looked to Garen and Irelia, their faces filled with understanding and compassion. Maybe their ears would listen to it.

"Sometimes, I feel alone, even with Chomper and you guys there to keep me company. Sometimes, the laugh and joy I put on people's faces feel fleeting… and given that they're gone the next day, it's true. Sometimes… I feel like I know too little to make any real difference on this world…" He fully let his troubles out, huddling his knees a little even though it wasn't cold. He felt lost and alone, not a good feeling for his kind since these feelings sapped them of their will. Before any of that could continue, he felt warmer, coupled by two hands placed on his shoulders.

"The first step is knowing you want to change." Irelia squeezed his shoulder lightly in reassurance.

"Even though they're small steps, they are important ones. Take your time, Fizz. Not everything has to be cleared in a single jump, you know." Garen followed Irelia's lead. Fizz's feelings of loneliness evaporated all of a sudden, due in no small part to the travelling duo on his sides. Who knew that their kindness easily surfaced?

"It's ok to take some time to know the world around you. Believe me, we've been in your shoes, or so the Demacian expression goes." Irelia smiled at the yordle, who returned the gesture.

"Huh. Thanks, guys. Maybe there is something to this whole 'seeing the world' thing…" Fizz admitted, getting up with a somersault. Full of energy once more, he vaulted over his friends.

"But before any of that, I need another snack. Want me to get you guys some more?" He asked, already leaving for the festival.

"I'm done for tonight, thank you." Irelia waved in denial.

"Bring me one more pineapple." Garen asked.

"Haven't you had enough, you fat slob?" Irelia poked him on the side of his shoulder.

"She's right, Fizz. Make it two pineapples." Garen held the lead still in their contest. Fizz waved with a smile and a nod, hopping away to the festival. Garen turned to Irelia, who looked at him with light disapproval.

"I'm not fat, woman."

"Suuuure… let's throw you that bone. Actually, you might eat that, too."

"Well, if it assuages your concerns, I just got a lot of exercise performing the haka and putting you soundly in the dirt at your own game; dancing." His pride was still going strong after his victory.

"Ok, first of all, you took me by surprise, so it doesn't count. Second, flailing around like a lunatic in what is basically glorified underwear does _NOT_ qualify as dancing." Irelia stood by her reasoning, neither of them relenting once again.

"Is that so? Then show me."

"Show you what?"

"Your dance, the one you learned? Show me, oh great dance master Xan. Redeem yourself in the eyes of the dancing gods or whatever it is you believe in." He challenged her with gusto once again. Her heart suddenly became a bit louder and livelier. She had performed and mastered the forms of the 'dance of life and charm' as the instructor told and praised her, but she never performed it for anyone. Back home, she had performed all the forms of joy, peace, family and prosperity that she knew, reminding her people what they fought for. Now, she could feel the fluster creeping up on her cheeks for a second time tonight.

Why was she hesitant? Was it because she had never performed her freshly learned dances so soon in front of others? Or was it because they were alone, on a calm beach all to themselves on a beautiful starry night by gentle wavy waters?

An almost… romantic night?

She stopped her thoughts abruptly after that. Any further and her mind would lose control over her crest, not to mention her grip on reality. She silently cursed her dreamy and starry-eyed side for taking the briefest control over her.

"What's the matter, master Xan? Getting cold feet? I guess I'll skip away with my sound victory in hand, then." Garen egged her on. She looked at him, the blush slowly subsiding at his comment. She truly forgot how direct he was with his thoughts and words. The larger part of her was thankful the big Demacian oaf didn't mean anything more than that. The tiniest, darkest part was a tad disappointed.

"Oh no. You're not getting away that easily." She stood up and walked in front of him. He crossed his legs and arms with a smug smile, as if unconvinced of her boast. It made her want to give it her all into the dance.

"One rule, Hero."

"What's that?"

"Don't blink."

She breathed in a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling the cool breeze on her skin and hair, the soft sand beneath her feet and the sounds of the waves in her ears. Stretching her arms and raising her chin, she began with simple arm twirls and steps. Luckily, the dance didn't require much legwork or the sand would've made things difficult. A torso half-circle and a few graceful hip shakes followed as her form flowed freely throughout her body. As the initial steps of the dance were complete, she raised her arms, slowly and softly spinning in place.

Garen was impressed at first, partly because she accepted his challenge and partly because she was unlike any other dancer back home. The years of perfecting her forms and adapting them to new ones were evident in every motion she made. As her dance became more expressive, however, he uncrossed and lowered his arms to his knees, slightly leaning forward. As she brought down and moved her arms to her left, mimicking the soft waves of the sea behind them as she moved them to the other side. At that moment, like a curtain revealing the brightest and warmest sun on a fresh spring morning, her hair exposed her face, closed eyes and upward-curved lips marking the happiness in her heart. He suddenly found it difficult to look away from it.

Irelia reached the height of her dance, arms flowing freely along with her twirls, her hips and legs following closely behind. Though she barely moved from her spot, her motions spoke volumes about her. She didn't care about whether or not she had an audience or if Garen looked at her. This is what she loved doing most. Her pearl-white teeth peeked out through her lips, free from the constraints of embarrassment. Around and above, the seas, sands, sky and stars were her audiences and her muses; undulating arms as restless and gentle as the waves, feet soft yet warm as the grains below them, the sky and stars an attentive audience to her performance. It simmered down with one last raise of her arms, brought down in an elegant half-circle along with a small bow.

Garen was entranced by the spectacle, both the dance and its performer. During the dance, he saw her face's every expression with every different motion she made, concluding with one of the most genuine smiles he had ever seen on a person's face. Beneath the blades, Ionian virtue and zeal, battle will and unyielding spirit was a woman who loved dancing to the tunes of the world, from defiant stances to peaceful sways. Everything she felt was expressed through movement. As she raised her head, he saw both her eyes and her shape, smile on her soft lips, long hair gently fluttering behind her, all of it accentuated by the faint glow of the stars behind her, cloaked in the slimmest shadows of the night's veil. In this moment of peace and openness, for the first time since he met her, Garen saw just how beautiful Irelia was.

No quips to throw, no despair to drive away and no helping hands to offer to each other… Only two pairs of eyes, two smiling pairs of lips and the serene world around them.

All of it brusquely blown away by the sand Irelia kicked in his direction.

"Puh! Bleh! Wh-what was that for?!" Garen coughed up the few grains that got stuck on his lips, with Irelia smiling smugly with her hands on her hips, chest pumped out in pride and chin raised high.

"That was for staring." She proclaimed.

"What are you- _You_ were the one who told me not to blink, remember?!" Garen fired back. She sat down next to him, both cosily and uncomfortably close.

"Yeah, but I didn't say you could drool." She said, still smug from catching him off guard. The vengeful part of her was satisfied for that victory, even if it wasn't what she imagined.

"I wasn't drooling! And even if I was, that would hardly be my fault, would it?"

"Oh, you are _not_ pinning this on me."

"Why not? You were the one who was bea-… Uhm…" His mind stopped his mouth on time. Unfortunately for him, she caught the glimpse.

"What?" The haughtiness was gone, replaced by surprise and a drop of shyness. Garen looked to the all-of-a-sudden interesting horizon ahead. Irelia's eyes were still on him and he could feel them.

"What did you- What were you going to say?" The question was almost timid, as if the answer was terrifying beyond belief. Garen luckily caught the tone and decided to dodge the issue for both of them.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that we're now even." Garen decreed the tie in the score. Irelia snapped out of her thoughts, grateful for the change in topic.

"Where'd you learn to count? I'm up by one." Irelia spoke indignantly, most of it in jest.

"Whatever. But just so you know, I'm not heading back home with a negative sarcasm competition score." Garen smiled in his third challenge for the night.

"You don't _really_ think you can win when all you have is your chaste knighthood and terrible sense of humour, do you?" Irelia took this one as well.

"Stranger things have happened, Xan." He breathed in the fresh night air, slowly turning his head towards the west. Irelia, meanwhile, looked to the east. Her memory was finally able to communicate with her, reminding her of the important conversation she needed to have with him. Given everything that happened, however, she wasn't quite sure now was the appropriate time.

Then again, when was ever the appropriate time when you're adventuring across Runeterra, chased by an empire, dodging drowned men and demons, battling sea monsters and simply staying alive? Adventuring was not quite the glorious excitement stories made it out to be.

She looked to Garen, head still turned westward. She didn't even have to see his face but she knew; he was homesick. She felt the same too.

It was either now and she gets turned down or laughed at or in the afterlife with the regret haunting her.

"Garen… I need to tell you something." She began, tentatively yet firmly. It got his attention.

"Of course. What's on your mind?" As always, he stood ready to help. But now it was her turn to offer.

"I've given some thought about the predicament you're in and I may have a solution." Judging by the piercing look he gave her, she definitely had his full attention now.

"The blockade might be impossible to slip by or break through, so the solution would be to circumvent it, right?" She eased him into it.

"Yes, but the Freljord and the Shuriman jungles aren't exactly the welcoming sort, particularly to a lone Demacian. Freezing to death or being eaten alive don't really sound like fitting ends to my adventure." Garen laid out the kinks in both of those options.

"Which is why I think you should go even further than that."

"What? How much farther can I go? No one has ever gone further down south, as far as I know. Rumors speak of Voidborn sightings, particularly in the southeast corner of the continent. I don't feel like trying my luck against those things. Trust me. From the few I've seen and fought, they're walking nightmares." Garen recounted his information and experiences.

"No, I mean go further… in the direction opposite of the blockade." Irelia spoke, giving him time to digest the information.

"What are you talking about?" He was uncertain of her intentions. It was the right time.

"I'm suggesting that you come with me." It was out. He looked at her with confusion. Before his mind could catch up, she spoke the words.

"Come with me… to Ionia." And just like that, it was on the table.

The shock in his face made her suspect he thought her a madwoman. He slowly got up, turning away, desperately trying to process the suggestion. It was the same point at which Irelia started regretting being direct. He was a simple man, but the situation he was in far from simple. She had to at least prevent him from burning out or calm him down if he was beyond that point.

"Ok, before you start-"

"That's **not** a solution I should be thinki-!"

"BEFORE you start…" She had to raise her voice to get through before his mind wandered off into his brooding corner.

"Garen, we survived Noxus and escaped it because we did so together. _Together_, remember? If you try to go through their blockade or towards the Freljord or Shurima by yourself, you'll end up dead. This way, you have a greater chance of surviving." She tried reason first.

"By doing what, Irelia? Running in the other direction until I'm exhausted? Maybe you haven't been paying attention, but Demacia and Ionia are on the opposite sides of Runeterra, which is, again if you haven't noticed, a GIGANTIC ball of rock. When last I was in Demacia, I didn't exactly leave with the kingdom in order. I was torn from my home in the _worst_ possible time. Going the opposite way isn't helping my situation at all!" He was on the edge of it, however, slowly teetering towards his emotions. Unfortunately, his comments muddled Irelia's senses as well.

"Oh by the Spirit, I **hate** it when you get like this! I get that, ok?! I get that Demacia is in troubled times. You know why? Because my home isn't in the best of shape right now, too! But you dying isn't going to help Demacia in any way and making rash decisions instead of reasonable ones is a sure way of letting that happen." She got up, letting out her frustrations as well, knowing from previous experience that it was better to be honest with him, even if it pained them both.

"And what you're suggesting is instead of taking a shot and trying to go through, I run away from my troubles until I either forget them or until there's nothing left of my home." He was getting angrier, his voice rising with each word spoken.

"Don't put words in my mouth! All I'm doing is trying to keep you from making idiotic choices. First it was the monster hunting job, then you almost losing to the River King, then that drowned madman and now this. I… I don't want the next one you make to be your last!" She was freely yelling at this point, not caring who heard them.

"So your answer is to drag me further away from my home? Why, Irelia?! Why do you keep doing that?!" He finally let it out, the blame she'd wanted to hear ever since they escaped Noxus. It wounded her and yet somehow gave her the strength to keep going. If she didn't then he'd be lost forever to the whims of the world.

"Because I don't want you to die!"

It ended the debate soundly for both of them, Garen finally letting his mind cool and reign in his emotions while Irelia confessed her true intent. Honesty was abundant between them, with all the pain, joy and comfort it brought. The sounds of the night helped balance out their hearts and minds. Garen turned around, looking Irelia in the eyes, both of them seeing the culmination of their shared experiences in each other, brief as they were. Looking back, they certainly didn't feel brief, for either of them.

"Huh… Just like I couldn't let you die back at the Bastion…" He confessed, a sad chuckle passing through his lips.

"Honestly… How do we put up with each other?" It was a half-joke, half-earnest question on his part. Irelia made the same gesture, unsure of the answer herself.

"I don't know… From our competition earlier, though, I respect that your head is the thicker one." She conceded. Garen's genuine smile flashed for the briefest moment, but disappeared as soon as the issue at hand returned to his thoughts.

"Ionia… the Land of Magic… It honestly sounds scarier than the blockade, the jungles and the ice. A Demacian in Ionia… Irelia, you do realize how this sounds? My presence, not to mention my status, will cause a great deal of uncertainty there, especially if what you say about the troubles of your land turns out to be true." He spoke the truth. She knew better than anyone how divided and chaotic Ionia was at the moment. It also meant that she would be bringing an outsider to a land still recovering from their steps. The last thing it needed was another stranger. Garen was quite adaptive, though. If they stuck together, if she guided him through her homeland, maybe they would find a way home for him as well. Ionia was the land of magic, after all.

Her inner self relished the opportunity to show him around the land, walk the silver plains together with him, visit the markets together and teach him about her nation's customs and cultures.

"I know… Look, I understand how you feel about it all. Magic, chaos and discord are abundant in my land, possibly even more so now that I have been away. But I promise you that should you choose to go with me, I will guide you, protect you and help you find a way back to Demacia. This, I swear upon my honour and my family's name." Irelia made the vow of protection towards him almost ceremoniously. Garen looked baffled for a moment, then let out a light laugh.

"A dancer swearing protection to a knight… Honestly, it's unheard of."

"Stranger things have happened, Crownguard."

They were both glad they were talking peacefully again, if nothing else. Irelia then took his hand in her own, giving it a reassuring tender squeeze.

"Whatever you choose, Garen, I won't think any less of you. If our places were reversed, I'd be resisting the idea as well. I just want you to be safe and return home. Should you choose to risk it, I will respect your decision and give you my blessing. But if you choose to come with me, I hope that you will trust me to help you find a way to Demacia." She comforted him, letting him know that it should be his decision, uninfluenced by her own worries, justified as they were.

"I'll think it over. I promise." It was all she needed from him. Though it was a bit unbridled, they brought the mood under control. Garen looked to horizon once more, the melding sea and stars looking strangely inviting.

Once again, he had a choice. But he knew better than anyone that freedom had a high price.

"I'm back, guys!" But the heaviness was shelved for now as a little blue yordle was approaching them with his hands behind his back.

"Sorry I took so long, but you won't believe who ran into me at the-" Fizz started explaining but stopped, noticing something peculiar about his friends, the sight putting a huge devilish grin on his face.

"What? Why are you smiling like that?" Irelia asked, wary of the yordle and his sense of mischief.

"Should I… come back later, possibly with a bigger blanket? I could show you guys a private spot, if you'd like." Fizz asked with a teasing tone. Garen and Irelia looked perplexed until they noticed where Fizz was looking; they were still holding hands.

"I-It wasn't like that!" Irelia nearly tore off her hands from Garen's, the knight just shrugging with a small grin.

"It really wasn't, Fizz. But back to more important matters. Where are my pineapples?" He looked at the yordle, who was strangely empty-handed.

"Fizz, please… _Please_ tell me you didn't forget the pineapples…" An empty stomach was not how he wanted to conclude this evening. Fizz just showed him his hands from behind his back, revealing the fruits with a yell.

"You do that again, yordle, and I will strap you to a chair and read you morose poetry for five hours straight." Garen mockingly threatened him, grabbing the fruits.

"You'd have to catch me first." He said, slicing the pineapples in half with his trident and joining Garen on the sand.

"Ugh… You boys and your bellies…" Irelia sat in a huff beside them, taking the offered half from Garen without a complaint, however. The trio once again sat and ate in the golden silence.

"What kept you so long, anyway?" Irelia asked.

"Oh right! Illaoi met me, apparently not finding you at the temple's celebrations." Fizz explained. Garen and Irelia suddenly looked alarmed.

"The priestess!" Garen smacked himself.

"Damn it, we completely forgot!" Irelia kicked the sand in front of her.

"Guys, hey! It's cool. She was actually fine with it, as absurd as it sounds. Something about you two 'chasing and doing what you desire' or some crap, you know how she gets… But anyways, she told me to pass on a message." Fizz swallowed the last chunk of his pineapple.

"Oh? What's the message?" Irelia asked.

"She has a ship and a route that will take you to Ionia…" Fizz began, letting them take in the moment. Irelia couldn't hold in her excitement, a light squeal of delight and happiness escaping her while Garen breathed out in relief. They had a way out, it seemed…

"… But she would only give it to you if you passed her 'Test' or something. To prove you are worthy, y'know?" And there's the catch.

"What? What kind of test?" Irelia asked, peeved that there was still more to do. Fortune and her people were fair enough, but Illaoi seemed like she had an agenda.

"The kind that tests your very soul… or so she said." Fizz told them. They shared a look of inquiry and worry.

"Did she say anything else?" Garen asked.

"Only that it would take place tomorrow. No details, though." Fizz relayed the last of the message.

"Well, I suppose that's all we can hope for with a woman like her." Garen resigned himself to the sand beneath him.

"She is quite strange, true." Irelia joined him.

"Eh, she is cool… sorta…" Fizz plopped down between them.

The trio looked to the stars above, all of them wondering if they paid any attention to the troubles of earthly creatures. It all seemed so distant and untroubled, unburdened by choices and consequences.

"Sure is a warm night…" Fizz sounded drowsy.

"We'd better get some shut-eye. It's been a long day…" Irelia yawned, eager to drift off into her dreams.

"Yeah… We all have a lot to think about where our futures will lead…" Garen glanced at his companions, the last sights before his dreams took him being Irelia's reassuring smile.

Although Nagakabouros was not a kind and gentle god, she allowed reprieve for those who have earned it. From atop the temple, her priestess observed the winding-down festivities, her eyes once again finding the trio sleeping together on a calm, secluded beach

They great things ahead of them… and it was her duty to kick them forward.


	7. Bilgewater - The Test of Spirit

**Bilgewater Part V – The Test of Spirit**

The sweet tropical odours mixed with the morning warmth began waking the drowsy, drunk and hungover denizens of Buhru. The festival gave and took; celebration, relaxation and happiness for clear heads, empty bladders and clean livers. A fair trade, at least as far as the Buhruans were concerned. The gods of Buhru were satisfied with the festivities and this wonderful morning was their way of expressing it, or so their followers believed. Shaking and washing off the drunkenness and drowsiness, the Buhruans continued their daily activities. To not do so would be to insult the gods' gifts, especially the Mother Serpent.

From the temple's central room, the Kraken Priestess stood awake already, stretching and yawning toward the morning horizon. Sometimes, being here and not spreading the teachings of Nagakabouros had value. Living wasn't only fighting, but finding the joy in the middle of it. She turned to the grand room, the chiefs of the tribes still sleeping off the spirits and farting off the pork in their sleep. For such proud and presenting men, they were simple and quite base underneath the gaudy clothes, bravado and ceremonial tattoos. Still, they did their jobs and they did them right. They had their disagreements on Buhru, the paylangi and more recently Gangplank, but the Mother Serpent tied them together. Common ground was the start of everything; agreements, talks, dancing, feasts and fights. Those that awoke kicked those that still snored and hugged their drinks. For some, the lessons stayed and for others not so much.

"Ughh… so much for peace and quiet…" The Caller awoke, drinking the last drop of the rum. He got up, retrieving his staff and stretched his stringy muscles and drying bones. He might have been old, but that didn't mean he was weak. His body still carried some of his former adventuring wiriness.

"For an old dry goat you sure have a spring left in your extremities. I suppose some things never change, no matter what the Mother has to say about them." Illaoi grabbed the idol of Nagakabouros, the 'Eye of God', as it was termed in Buhru. The old Caller scoffed and kicked the closest person to him awake, a poor sleepy dancing girl who jolted once his foot connected with her chin.

"Come on, you lazy meat sacs. On your feet. World's not waiting for ya." He yelled out, the others jolting awake at his call. The ones already on their feet just glared at the Caller for taking their pleasure away.

"Must you steal others' joy?" The priestess asked him, disapproving of his attitude.

"Just another perk I've earned from Nagakabouros. And shouldn't you be preparing the temple for today's test? I still don't understand why those two idiots didn't show up last night. You have almost no idea what their souls will be like or even if they're ready." Motoi took a ripe orange and began peeling it, eager to sink his teeth into the soft parts.

"The temple will be prepared by the time I find them or by the time they get here, whichever's first. They didn't show up last night because they were enjoying themselves, same as we were. As for that souls bit, I think it's better to see what they're like when faced with the unknown, don't you?" Illaoi shifted the Eye on her right shoulder, grabbed a mango and headed out to the settlement below. Motoi stepped out on the balcony, looking to the beach. The trio was still sleeping peacefully on the sand, the warmth of the sun and the crash of the waves tenderly shaking them awake. Once again, Nagakabouros gave them leeway and once again, they slept through it. He was starting to have doubts about them. Testing them like this would break tradition since the priestess was only supposed to be Nagakabouros' voice, not a decision maker. Illaoi never did _anything_ traditionally. And yet, the way she moved through crowds, adversaries and storms made him think twice about getting in her way. He may've disapproved, but he was no fool. The Test must be taken by all and their turn was next.

* * *

Garen was the first to stir, his eyes slowly opening and adjusting to the light. The billow from the sconces had long perished, the calm waves and fresh air giving way to the squawks of seagulls. White fluffs of clouds dotted the skyline, signalling calm heavens for today. He rose up slowly, stretching his limbs and neck, taking in the white, blue and gold. The colors of the summer… the colors of Demacia…

He looked down beside him, the sight more soothing than the morning as a warmth unable to be provided by the brightest stars stirred his happiness. Fizz snored with his mouth open, his coconut helmet rolled off from his head and his mock skirt a jumbled mess, both from his twisting around in sleep. Beside the yordle, Irelia dreamed peacefully, her chest slowly moving up and down with her quiet breaths, her long blue hair in an almost perfect curve obscuring her chin and a hint of a smile on her lips. At least they had good dreams, unlike his which were filled with yearning and regret. He couldn't resist glancing westward.

It truly seemed too far, both the troubles and the comfort. Jarvan was now truly alone, his father murdered during the mage rebellion. Hopefully, Lux and the Vanguard realized that he needs a few hands to help him on his feet. He had been in his shoes, after all. There was also the strange, purple-skinned Shyvana, a woman that saved his life and slew a dragon alongside him during his disappearance. She seemed an honourable and good person, if a bit solitary. He never much spoke to her due to how antisocial she was, but Jarvan vouched that she was only guarded and not a bad person. Given that she did her duties as a royal guard admirably and devotedly, he believed his prince was telling the truth. Seeing his two new friends made him realize that despite his efforts, Runeterra was more than capable of blindsighting him, a greenhorn in terms of knowing the extent of the dangers, regions and ways of the planet outside of Demacia. When that moment came, and it would come, would he be capable of protecting himself and them? Would he be able to overcome the dangers on his own if they were incapable of fighting alongside him? The plan back in Noxus relied on blind luck and Irelia's instincts and that was only the very first of his obstacles on his adventure. The next ones would certainly be far, _far_ more difficult to tackle.

He sat cross-legged at their heads, watching their faces, listening to their every breath. A mighty, vigilant eagle standing guard over his charges, making sure no harm came to them in this vulnerable state. Seeing them like this made him realize they were all he truly had right now. His sword, the magical gauntlet on his left arm, a few well-stitched clothes and his wits would be all that remain if he separated from them. All of that felt like nothing.

All his life, he has stood guard over that which he valued and loved. Demacia was enjoying quiet times thanks to people like him, guardians of the peace who jumped at the call of duty. His family was the first and foremost in that duty, always watchful for any signs of trouble, be it espionage, magic, treason or assassination attempts. Luxanna, although a mage, was kept safe from both herself and the Mageseekers thanks to his and aunt Tianna's efforts. And then, in just a few days' time, it was all destroyed by Sylas, one of Demacia's most dangerous criminals. The kingdom was in uproar, mages imprisoned in the capital all set loose and wreaking havoc throughout the streets, hundreds dead on both sides, districts burning and levelled…

It was hard restoring order after that, especially with the event at the Grand Plaza. Many had died or went missing, the Crownguards and the Vanguard were in disarray and Jarvan lost his father, rendered almost inconsolable after the ordeal. He saw the self-blame in the prince's eyes, doing all he could to bandage the wound. A gash like that in one's soul couldn't be healed by words, only time and solitude. Garen knew that all too well. That entire scenario made a dent in his unshakeable pride in his kingdom; has Demacia truly forgotten its ways? Were its ideals in the wrong about some things or was it a gross misinterpretation on the parts of those who enforced them? Was magic truly a force of evil… or was it simply those who used it that made it such? Humans were always chaotic and selfish. Why should their magic be any different? It made sense, in an appalling and messed-up way. It made one wonder, though; would there ever truly be a law or a rule that made them think twice about themselves and those around them?

The cold grip was slowly slithering around his mind yet again. All of the past and present events made his life slowly tumble from a warm sunny afternoon into a cold starless night, devoid of any cheer and purpose, all of it taken from him by soul-shattering revelations about himself and his home. He looked up towards the skies, something he noticed all humans did when stumped. They looked to the stars for answers or whatever gods dwelled above the heavens, beyond even mighty Targon's Peak. He was not a religious man, but even he knew better than to dismiss those tales, given the sights he has seen. A solemn look of longing on his face, he wondered how long would this cold night last and what awaited him after it…

"Good morning."

A simple greeting from a drowsy, happy voice provided the answer.

Irelia looked at him from below, upside-down from his perspective, with a sleepy smile on her face.

"Sleep well?" She asked him, rolling on her stomach to look at him properly, her hair following flowingly and shaking off the sand.

"So-so. You?"

"Same. It's pretty early, isn't it?" She noticed the sun on her left, slowly rising from the east. As if feeling the warmth of her very homeland carried through the rays, she got up with a yawn and slowly readied for her morning stretches. She noticed Fizz still out like a lantern beside her and moved a bit further as to not disturb his rest. As she began her back stretches, she saw Garen's face, particularly the deep thought and concern. He had the little knot between his eyebrows, after all.

"Wanna join me? You could use a stretch." It was less about the stretching and more about trying to get him to forget about whatever he was thinking. Mornings were about getting ready to greet the day with as much positivity as possible, not stress about what would happen.

"A stretch?" He asked, knot untied and face stumped. She was still smiling, a warm invitation on her part.

"Hmmm… Sure, why not?" Garen accepted, getting up and standing on her left, following her lead in the stretches, except for the ones that he had zero flexibility for.

"Your body is so rigid. I thought a soldier like you would at least know the importance of dodging a strike." Irelia commented, unsure of whether it was from his training or recent events. Either way, he needed flexibility.

"True, moving is the best defence in almost every case. Sometimes, though, you will not be able to move or be predicted by your opponent. In those cases, you have to stand firm and weather the blow." Garen explained with his soldier's experience. He made extra sure to simplify it as much as possible, given that she became a soldier out of necessity and not choice like him, thus not having the proper training and discipline.

"I know what you mean… Before the invaders came, Ionia slumbered and lounged in the cradle of peace, unspoiled by outside wars and influence. The first war… It was just a wake-up call. Many in Ionia know a second invasion is all but inevitable. My capture proved that. I just wonder if they'll be ready to withstand it. We've spent so much time standing still that it's a miracle we're still able to fight." She confessed. Garen knew that feeling all too well. The only difference between their nations' quandaries was that Demacia's problems were because of internal reasons, whereas Ionia suffered an invasion.

"Pain is pain, however. You either learn from it or succumb to it." Irelia finished, sitting down and taking in the fresh sea air.

"We'll endure, though. We have learned that much, at least. Some of us, anyway. Those that have will help those that haven't catch up. Ionia will move forward as one and I will clear the way for it. That is my hope. That is my wish." She looked to the rising sun.

"Words of a worthy leader, those. Words of burden, as well." Garen finished, sitting down next to her. She turned to him, astonishment covering her face.

"… Thank you." She spoke with gratitude profuse in her voice.

"Well, don't drown me in thankfulness. Even I can't hold that much air in my lungs." Garen joked. Her expression didn't change.

"Irelia?"

"What- Oh! I'm so sorry. It's just… refreshing hearing praise for my vision of the future. Usually, the people of Navori are bitter and jaded about Ionia's imminent course, particularly since a small part of our territories are still under Noxian occupation. It's how they were able to capture me, since I was fighting close to them. Huh… maybe my zeal _did_ get me in trouble, after all…" Irelia explained, pondering the last part. Many of her more level-headed compatriots warned her against taking rash actions when it came to her enemies, especially Noxus. Karma's current vessel, Darha, was one of them as was the former Kinkou assassin, Akali. The wind warrior didn't particularly care, as he disappeared soon after the battle was over, as did the little lightning yordle. She never doubted their loyalties, but she wondered what they all truly fought for. They all followed her during the battle, however. Given time, and an _extraordinary_ amount of effort in Akali's and the wind warrior's cases, she could truly call them all friends instead of just battle comrades.

It all paled in comparison to the people of Navori, however. Many of them still remember the devastation, the deaths of their families and the stand at the Placidium. That last memory brought out many emotions in those that followed her. Silent, stewing rage before the storm struck, pride and hope in the middle of the chaos and empty grief at the end of it all. The Placidium was saved as was their culture and families… who were now a few members short. Loss and defeat were two of the hardest things humans had to deal with, especially when it came to those closest to their hearts. Some endured the pain while others supplemented it with rage. Some shut down entirely, unable to cope with the events that led them to where they were now. And throughout it all, she saw everything. She saw how old couples wept at the graves of soldiers, how children never moved far from their empty homes, thinking the spirits of their warrior parents still dwelled within. She saw how the aftermath spawned an infection of division among former families, comrades and leaders. No matter what she did to assuage, soothe and drive away their anger, they never forgot. Little by little, she found herself falling prey to that emotion as well, the deaths of her entire family never truly letting her heal and move forward. She would help those that needed it, though. She found that the more wounds she mended the more she healed herself. The inspiration spread marvellously to others.

That is, until the Brotherhood of Navori came to be.

Zealous, incredibly insular, fanatical and near-insane, the Brotherhood was comprised of the most fervent and patriotic Ionians and held the blinkered belief that Ionia was the only thing that mattered. Every outsider was an invader to them and would be dealt with as such… which was with either imprisonment or death. They thought they healed the land and brought order to the people, but it was all for their own gain and ideals.

Ideals which they took from her inspired speeches and battles, twisted and corrupted to suit their purposes.

Once again, she wondered if she did more harm than good by fighting back.

"Then let me be clear on what I implied back at the terrace on Fortune's mansion." Garen turned to her, Irelia coming to from her thought chain.

"You are one of the most capable and deadliest warriors I have ever fought beside, unyielding and courageous to your beliefs. Your capacity for hope of the future is laudable and unshakeable, prompting others to follow your footsteps. Although I have only seen it once in action, I can ascertain from my combat experiences and time spent with you that your leadership and vanguard skills are commendable as well, at least in the fighting fragment." He fired off compliment after compliment, making her both proud of her accomplishments and ashamed of what she didn't achieve but could have.

"You think so. Everyone else is either urging me to do more, trying to get rid of me or straight up hating my guts. You'll forgive me if I doubt you a little, I hope?" She looked at the sand, trying to come to terms with everything that was good about her and within her. All she could come up were her dances, her skill in battle and her inspirational presence. The 'normal person wanting a quiet life' parts were stuck in the quagmire of necessity and reason, slowly sinking deeper toward the bottom of acceptance. Would she ever truly be normal? Could she go back to that life if everything was said and done, if Noxus and those that meant her and Ionia harm _finally_ left them alone? Could she pretend she didn't see all the carnage and didn't hear all the screams?

Could she repair all that was broken, about her home and herself?

"You want to doubt me? Fine. I haven't exactly been doing everything you wanted. When it comes to yourself and your beliefs, however, you should have no misgivings there. Yes, we've been here before but like I told you back then, I will believe for you until you are capable of doing so for yourself. Even for the smallest of doubtful moments." Garen put the discussion to an end with his reassuring smile. He turned to the horizon, taking the white, blue and gold. Demacia was so far from his physical presence, but she never truly left his heart and mind. His thoughts returned to the previous night; if he chose to travel to Ionia, he would be turning his back on Demacia, both literally and figuratively… from _one_ point of view. From the opposite, he would be looking at the Demacia from the west, a gigantic ocean being the only thing obscuring his sight of his beloved kingdom. A simple yet powerful belief, just as it suited him. Reality dragged him back to the horrid side of the choice, however; he would be travelling to the land of magic, a concept that any true Demacian would steer ten miles clear of. The only thing he knew of the subject was how to hunt down those that used it, detain them, keep them safe from themselves… or kill them. What would he do in Ionia? If the land truly had a will of its own as Irelia suggested in her words, and that was not a far-fetched theory given the circumstances, would it welcome someone like him, a soldier loyal to a cause that would want nothing to do with Ionia? The more he thought about it, the more difficult the choice became from every standpoint. A simple man in a complex situation was a deadly and explosive mixture and tossing it in a land of chaos was pouring oil on the fire. What should his next move be?

Before the answer was pondered, he felt a softness on his shoulder, strands of blue hair careening down his arm.

"Thank you." It was hushed as the waves before them, as if spoken to herself. She felt comfortable around him, able to let her guard down, an almost forgotten notion to her.

They watched the sunrise together, the hues of blue and orange slowly creating a lenient mixture of pink and purple, painting the horizon's canvas in a masterful display of melding colors. The waves were almost respectfully calm, to the sight and the two travellers. Garen finally felt the need to relax his vigilant mood, letting his head slowly edge towards Irelia's until his cheek touched her hair.

No more 'symbols of their people', no more 'souls of their nations' and no more 'legends of Runeterra'.

Just two friends, admiring all that was before them and sharing the peacefulness of the world.

"Have you ever had moments like these back in Demacia? Just… forgetting everything bad that's occurred to you and loving the world for all the good it had?" Irelia asked.

"Few and far between. Demacia is small and quiet… at least, it was. I kept telling myself I would enjoy them later… when my duties ended. Turns out they never did. Eventually, I just accepted that I would see them on my deathbed, if I ever got there." Garen admitted.

"A soldier's life, huh? I'm struggling with that myself. I hope we end the war before I die, but the more I fight the more I accept that it will eventually kill me. A moment of weakness, a stray shot, an unblocked strike, fatigue… One of those would, in due course, be my end. At least my family will be waiting for me on the other side." Irelia understood his words. Being a soldier was never what she wanted, but someone had to fight and organize those who wanted to. Until recent revelations, she thought she was alone in that. Darha and Akali, however, had their own ideas about leadership and her, the former thinking she was too fervent on initiating combat and the latter not respecting her lack of tactical experience. They were both right. If they weren't, she wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

"Good. I have a feeling you'd look like a horrible, wrinkly and reclusive hut witch in your twilight years." He smiled.

"Thanks for the compliment… I think." She went with it. They shared the moment a little longer until a yawn from behind them got their attention.

"Morning, guys." The sleepy yordle greeted them.

"Didn't know yordles slept this long. Or is it just you? Too much excitement for one night?" Irelia teased him.

"Real funny. Just so you know, I can go on for weeks without getting tired, let alone sleep." Fizz grabbed his trident and coconut helmet and squeezed between the two, shaking off the sand on his back.

"Besides, I'll bet you were enjoying the alone time with him." The yordle caught on to her, poking Garen's shoulder as he made the accusation.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She tried wriggling out of it.

"Of course not, Miss Holding-Hands."

"A-anyways, now that all of us are up, we should get some breakfast." Irelia got up, stretching out one last time.

"Right. Let's go and see how Buhru greets the day." Garen joined her.

"Better than Bilgewater. At least here, they're not acting like drooling sea slugs on a heat wave." Fizz sprung up, trailing behind them.

"Don't you have any more comparisons to make other than people from the Isles?" Garen asked, more curious than teasing.

"Sure, big guy. I'll just walk on over to Demacia. The other side of the world is a short distance to cover just for your 'glorious' and 'proud' kingdom of magic haters who'd probably kill me on sight." Fizz used his description of Demacia against him with a satisfied smile.

"Ouch…" Garen took the hit he'd brought on himself.

"What about Ionia? Have you ever been there or encountered any of your kind from there? I've fought beside a yordle… or at least, I think he was. He was decidedly fluffier from the few glimpses of fur around the exposed edges of his mask." Irelia told him of the lightning yordle. It would not be far from the norm to think that his kind's physiology was as varied as humans, but she didn't consider it went from fur to smooth skin and fins.

"Nah, haven't been there, either. Sure would like to, one day…" Fizz's adventurous spirit shone through his words, as did his yearning.

"Well, if you ever decide to, know that you are welcome there at any time." Irelia offered her invitation.

"Thanks. Maybe I will visit it when I get tired of the Isles." Fizz mused on it, eager to set out and explore Runeterra himself, wanting to see everything that has changed since his people were wiped out. Despite the tragedy, he wasn't alone. Not only was Chomper with him, but there were also many interesting humans around, some more approachable than others. He had all the experience he needed to deal with them. His current companions were rather unique, even for their kind. If he had a chance, he would definitely stick around them a bit more. In this moment, however, all three of them were drawn in by the morning bustle of Buhru, the scents and tastes of their food, the yelling of the peddlers and the colors of their grand vistas.

Their troubles could take a break for a few minutes.

* * *

Illaoi strode through the crowds, filled with her share of fruit for the morning and muscles brimming. Her idol glowed softly on her shoulders, its eyes bright as if searching for worthy souls to test. While she always followed her heart, Illaoi never shirked her duty to her god and faith. Most of the time, they interweaved, such as now.

The markets were alive and bustling, fully rejuvenated from last night's festivities and already peddling everything there was to peddle in Buhru. She felt the temptations once again as eyed the colorful fruits and still-roasting meats, stopping to buy a few on her way to the beach, the last place she saw the travellers. Nagakabouros blessed her today, for she felt a slap on her shoulders or rather what passed for a slap among Ionians.

"Ho ha ha ha! If you were trying to get revenge for yesterday, girl, that wasn't the way to do it. Keep trying, though. Eagerness is but the first taste." Illaoi half-critiqued and half-complimented the 'love tap'.

"Ow… seriously, between you and Garen, I don't think I can handle this much revenge-taking. Made of friggin' brass, the both of you…" Irelia flapped her hurting palm, lamenting her denied chances of vengeance on the near-indestructible juggernauts.

"Guess all that dancing around has made you soft. Or maybe you just haven't learned to suffer properly." Illaoi took a gander at Irelia's personality. She was indeed a fighter, but only when threatened and forced to be one. Striking first was something she had yet to acquaint herself with.

"Oh, I can take it harder than most, but only in the right spots. Flexibility is what I'm all about, true, but I have stamina and endurance as well." Irelia proclaimed.

The silence was more prevalent than the market noise, compounded by the looks on Garen's, Fizz's and Illaoi's faces.

"W-wait, not like that! I meant fighting! I haven't even done that sort of thi- Never mind!" The realization came to her along with a bright red face.

"So… is that why you're on edge and moody the whole time?" Garen asked, once again capitalizing on her blunders.

"Oh, go jump in a bush and spin yourself to death." Her embarrassment turned into childish rage, both her companions and the priestess bursting into laughter. At least mockery was one of her tougher spots to both endure and dish out.

"Dirty humour aside, it's good to see you two up and about. I take it you enjoyed yourselves last night?" Illaoi properly greeted them.

"It was a resplendent festival and truly worthy of the deities and tribes of the island." Garen responded earnestly, having had a lot of enjoyment last night, due in no small part to the dance he learned, the delicious food and Irelia and Fizz joining him in the celebrations, Irelia's and his tomfooleries being the cherry on top of the scrumptious slice of cake.

"We're so sorry we didn't meet you yesterday. As Garen said, we got sidetracked, had some issues to work through… again…" Irelia remembered their conversation last night. Part of her wanted an answer while the rest of her wanted to give him more time. Illaoi's offer cut that time short, though. She wanted to bargain for more time on his behalf, but not only would the priestess not like that, Garen would also object to her selfishness. Maybe not outright but given time, he eventually would. The only thing she could do now was watch the consequences of their choices unfold before them.

"Is that so? The little one and many others told me of your charming competition. Were you that much of a sore loser, girl?" Illaoi asked, on the verge of another laugh.

"What? No! Not completely, at least… Look, that's not what the issues were about." Irelia cleared the priestess' misunderstanding.

"Oh? What were they about, then? Perhaps I can help you with them." Illaoi offered, shifting her idol on her other shoulder, its eyes flaring ever so slightly at her proposal.

"Well, to be honest it has a lot to do with _you_, priestess, especially since Fizz told us about your suggestion." Irelia addressed the elephant in the room.

"Ah… Then we will all be satisfied with what comes next. Follow me." Illaoi turned and strode towards the temple.

"So tell me, Garen and Irelia. What is it about my suggestion that troubles you so?" Illaoi asked as they caught up with her, the four of them nearing the massive stone steps leading up the top of the mountain and the temple.

"You first, priestess. Why?" Garen asked.

"Be more specific, boy." Illaoi reached the steps, lowering her idol and ascending up the temple. As she lowered it and asked the question, the idol's eyes glowed slightly, as if reaching for the travellers' attention.

"I don't need to be, since most any answer will fill in the gaps of knowledge, but I'll humor you. Why did you offer Irelia a way home?" Garen asked. Irelia perked up as well, eager to hear the answer to that question.

"Because I can and I want to. Come now, boy. You think I know everything that goes on in your head? Be _direct_ with your desires. It's the only way to let people know your true self." She never broke her stride, even when sounding annoyed.

"Heh. As I said. Any answer." Garen confirmed that she did things on a whim. It meant another roll of luck was imminent from her and if they both didn't play their cards right, she could easily turn the tide of this string of good fortune.

"In other words, you want to see what happens to us and what decisions we would make. That's what your doctrine is telling you?" Irelia got the same idea as well, wanting to make sure it was all part of her 'test'.

"Ha! That's what _this_ is telling me." She turned just enough to let them see her tap her heart.

"But enough about me. What are your troubles and what do they have to do with my decision?" She returned to her previous question.

"Are you informed of the Noxian blockade to the west, priestess?" Garen asked.

"I am. Your doing, I believe? Well done, you two. It's about time someone showed those fools that despite their strength, they still have their vulnerabilities." Illaoi praised their escape.

"Thank you, but while we escaped to the Serpent Isles, only one of us had a way home." Irelia slowly revealed their predicament.

"While Irelia's path is clear and, should you choose, secured, mine is barred… save for one route." Garen elaborated further.

"Going to Ionia, correct?" Illaoi surmised. Suddenly it all became clear, another reason to be eager to test them.

"Ah, I see. Your dilemma is one of many put together, all of which were created by yourselves through your choices." Illaoi reached the top, hefting the Eye on her shoulder as she pushed the great carved gates of the temple open.

"For someone who eschews order and minimalism, you sure do like to simplify things… especially those that aren't such." Garen commented, getting Illaoi's attention. She turned to face him, a strangely satisfied smile on her face.

"If you think order is the simpler of the two sides, Garen, you have much to learn. Lucky for you, I'm more than happy to teach you." She turned and led them through to the grand hall. The three took a good look around the circular chamber; the stone walls were carved with tentacles, each colored with a dark green shade and coiling around the entire room. The sections between the carvings were murals of the ocean's depths; fish of all colors, sizes and types swimming in harmony with the flow, sharks, leviathans and octopuses and other predators hunting them or fighting amongst each other. The floor was painted into a maelstrom, the swirling blue abyss spiralling down to an endless dark in the centre. Above them, the domed ceiling was frescoed with clouds and winds, the golden sun spreading its rays from the middle, eclipsed by a silvery half-moon.

The entire temple was a monument to life, the shades and carvings prompting Garen and Irelia to take some time to admire them, slowly tracing their hands across the murals.

"I see you two like the design. Personally, I find it too gaudy and bright. Life is not about all things, only those who are strongest and most adaptable… Only those who can move through the maelstrom." Illaoi stood at the edge of the vortex, the Eye slowly pulsating with a teal glow.

"I've been meaning to ask, priestess… What is that orb you carry? I sense something strange emanating from it… almost otherworldly…" Irelia got curious about the Eye, the idol flashing lightly at her question as if acknowledging it.

"It is the Eye of God, Irelia. An icon sacred to the priesthood. To me, however, it is the window to the truth. Well, that and an excellent substitute for a whacking stick." Illaoi answered.

"It's coursing with magic, at least as far as I can sense." Irelia made a note about the artefact, to herself and Garen.

"What sort of magic? Harmful?" Garen couldn't stop himself from assuming nor give 'helpful' a chance to escape his lungs. Despite his recent experiences, he still had trouble believing magic was naturally inclined to anything other than chaos and destruction.

"No, my fretful birds. Insightful." Illaoi set the Eye down on a special dais, the shimmering lights from the idol slowly billowing to a steady faint glow.

"Now then… Before I reveal what the Test entails, I would like to speak to both of you, as individuals and as one. Let's start with the latter, since I prefer the former to be between the tester and the student." Illaoi stretched her shoulders and cracked her neck, as if preparing for a fight. It made the travellers even more curious and a little cautious about what kind of test it was.

"But before we begin… Little one, this is between me and them. Go and have some fun without them for a while." Illaoi turned to Fizz, who scowled.

"Hang on! What is going to hap-" The yordle began protesting, but the priestess raised her hand.

"Between me and them, little one. They must undertake this part of their journey without you… and later on, without each other. Worry not. If they are as strong as their tales make them out to be, they'll more than survive the test." Illaoi reassured him.

"Wait… Survive?" Garen picked up on the priestess' word choice.

"Yes." It was as casual as remarking about the weather. Garen and Irelia shared an anxious look.

"Can I at least talk to them before I go?" Fizz requested. With a simple nod from Illaoi, he grabbed his friends and took them aside.

"Listen, guys. She's _not_ joking. I didn't think that _this_ is what she meant by testing. Argh, I should've picked up on it yesterday! Stupid festival… See, she does this thing where she literally pulls out your-"

"And no snitching, yordle, or I'll catch you by your tentacles, skin you alive and roast you along with the pork. I'm actually curious as to how yordles taste like…" Illaoi mused part-threateningly. Fizz withdrew slightly, driving his friends even more on edge.

"Sorry, guys. Like I said, she's good on her word. Just be careful and stay alive, alright?" Fizz warned, trying very hard not to lose his cool.

"Don't worry about us, Fizz. Anything she throws at us, we can handle it." Garen attempted to assuage the yordle.

"I don't know… I mean, I know you guys are tough, but she is kinda-" The little yordle was unconvinced, but a pat on the head from Irelia strengthened Garen's argument.

"We've both been through a lot in our lives as individuals, Fizz. Quite a lot together, as well. We can overcome this challenge, too. We each have a lot of stake in it, after all. This is the final obstacle to my way home and I'm _not_ letting it stop me." Irelia almost radiated determination.

"If you guys say so… Just make sure you come out alive, ok?" Fizz tapped his trident on the marble, a strong and final request from him for today.

"We will." Garen's response matched it. Knowing the knight and the dancer meant what they said when it came to reaching their goal, Fizz nodded and left for the gates. The priestess then signalled the gathered priests and followers, who hurried out of the temple. As the last two pulled the gates shut, the last light enveloped the figure of the little blue yordle, his eyes filled with both hope and dread as he watched his new friends' turned faces and uplifting smiles slowly become obscured until the final wooden boom concealed them out of his sight. He stared at the doors, the mural of the Mother Serpent seemingly watching him, as if asking why he still stood before her instead of chasing his desires. He glared back defiantly, subconsciously gripping his trident tighter.

"I know you don't really pay attention to my kind, but if you take my friends' souls, I'll swim across the entire world to rip them out of your tentacles. Remember that, if you decide to bother at all." His voice was almost menacingly low, a fact that escaped his rage and worry-fuelled mind. He snapped out of it when he felt his hand starting to hurt from the grip. He inspected the trident for any damage before looking at the mural one last time, resisting the urge to swing at it or draw obscenities all over it. With a final sigh, the Tidal Trickster walked down the stairs, battling the impulse to turn lest he rush back up and kick the doors down. Part of him wished he saw this coming when he heard about the offer, but he was too focused on the good things to come that night. Maybe he brought this on them, given that he thought Illaoi was going to ask them to perform a favour or run an errand. Maybe if he kept his mouth shut for once, the people he talked to wouldn't get in so much trouble…

Whatever the case, there was no point worrying about it now. Their fate would either be in their own hands or their souls in Nagakabouros' tentacles.

He hoped the trip around the world wouldn't be too lengthy should the latter happen.

* * *

As the doors closed, the Demacian soldier and the Ionian dancer faced the Buhru priestess. She shifted carefully between both of their pairs of eyes, trying to find a crack of hesitation in their stalwart gazes. Determined to see their paths to the end, the travellers stared her down, letting her know they didn't care what she threw at them. Three souls intertwined this day. Three fates crossed paths. Three hearts beating with emotion, fuelling three minds set on seeking answers from one another. The silence of the great hall made their thoughts almost audible, the murals acting as their audience and eager to see the events unfold.

"So here we are at last, little birds. Despite the rough start, strange obstacles, stranger people, same goals and parting directions, you have found your ways." The priestess began, standing fully straight with her strength and fortitude on full display.

"The two of you, maybe. I'm… still unsure about my path." Garen admitted, making himself the priestess' first target.

"Unsure? About wanting to return?"

"Never happened and never will." He answered with unshakeable conviction, which the priestess simply laughed at.

"Then what bothers you? Speak honestly, boy." She goaded him. Garen thought about last night's suggestion from Irelia. There were just as many good things as there were bad about the whole thing, rendering him undecided on the notion. Before the thought continued, he felt Irelia's eyes on him, turning to look at her. She wore a familiar look on her face, a mixture of an apology and understanding, slowly forming a smile and a glint in her eyes. Illaoi caught this, however, turning to the dancer.

"Hah! How like a man to be so easily distracted by a woman. No doubt she has obscured your path with an idea of her own." Illaoi guessed correctly.

"I… that's not what she… She would never…" Garen stammered, but knew in his heart and mind that it was true. For some reason, he couldn't help but turn to Irelia for answers, a fact that he knew was ample evidence of Illaoi's statement. Irelia, however, had flared up, her crest once again shimmering a threat.

"First of all, if you are going to speak about me in earshot, do so to my face. Second, I would never bar the paths of my friends nor set obstacles on them. At least, not intentionally." The Blade Dancer stood defiantly once again, defending her ideals against a foe that challenged them.

"I have made mistakes around him, hindered him in many ways and have even hurt him. But I have also helped him, done good things around him and healed him. If it was my choice and I could do something about the circumstances surrounding us, I would always choose the latter options. I know our paths, beliefs and lives are as different as light and shadow, but he is my friend and I will fight for him and protect him. If helping him involves finding a way to Demacia with less danger in it, I will do it, no matter what anyone says." She clenched her fists, the crest slowly splitting itself into blades.

"Ho ha ha ha! I'm starting to like you, girl. Save that strength and will for the Test, though. You'll need it." Illaoi stood impressed with Irelia's spirit.

"I have plenty of it, priestess. Bring it." Even more impressed with her honesty, Illaoi grew strangely eager to test the young dancer.

"Oh I will, believe me. You will take the Test individually; once one of you starts, the other must exit the temple. Since I have two students today, however, the choice of who will take the Test first will be yours to decide. Do so quickly." Illaoi lifted the Eye from its pedestal, the metal orb pulsing to life at her touch. The travellers shared a look, Garen conveying his hesitation and Irelia showing grit.

"I'll go first." She already made the decision.

"Why?"

"To give you more time to think things over and prepare. You don't look ready, if I'm being honest." Irelia reasoned.

"All right, then. Be careful, will you?" Garen agreed, squeezing her shoulder in reassurance.

"I always am." She smiled confidently.

"Not always." He smiled back. He turned to the priestess one last time and made a small bow of respect.

"You bow when it's over, boy. Until then, get your ass outside." Illaoi sounded both impatient and amused. Garen gave Irelia one last look of farewell and hurried out of the temple, the great doors opening and he view welcoming him yet doing little to comfort him. It felt as if it was only the beginning of the final act… of the first part of a long and dangerous story.

As the doors closed shut, Illaoi and Irelia were left alone in the quiet dimming blue lights, courtesy of the mirror lights and the embedded sapphires in the murals, giving off the feeling that they were underwater. The light-blue soothed the soul… which was the first trap of the Test. Illaoi had seen it many times in many people; humans preferred calm and peace, not realizing that those were two of life's greatest luxuries. Earning them was a long and tedious road, many of which thought was either easily walked or could be circumvented entirely. Those were the ones that died first when the perils of mortality came for them. Others boasted about how the dangers were easily overcome, trusting only what they saw, not knowing of the threats beneath their senses until it was too late and they were right behind them. The rest fell prey to the dangers of the path, their own mistakes and their own weaknesses. The few that did survive, however, were changed forever, free to carve their own words and deeds into the canvas of destiny. Those were the ones that earned their reprieve from the chaos, however brief it was. New tests always loomed on the horizon just barely out of sight, seeking to surprise them. They very often didn't; the worthiest souls were always ready for a challenge.

Garen and Irelia were different, however.

The Demacian Eagle and the Ionian Phoenix were seemingly already tested in the fires and storms of the vortex of the world's chaos, both of them emerging stronger and wiser. Their wings were wider and stronger than any she had ever seen. They were reluctant to part with their nests, however. What use were those wings if not to carry them through the gales and storms, showing them the wonders of Runeterra?

It was her duty to open their eyes… and she was more than happy to do it.

"Irelia of Ionia." Illaoi's tone took a serious tone, as if a teacher had seen a student of theirs misbehave or break the rules. The Ionian dancer caught the tone, standing ready for whatever the priestess had in store for her.

"In the eyes of Nagakabouros and my own, you have strayed from the path to your desires and through them, your very destiny. As such, it is my duty- nay, my _wish_, to see you return to it." Illaoi's light green eyes started glowing brighter and brighter with every word spoken until they were as bright as the idol, which began to seemingly pour out magic, as if forming a waterfall from its mouth. Irelia prepared herself, her crest fully separated and ready, her instincts telling her that what would follow would be a difficult challenge. As they faced each other, Illaoi raised the idol and pointed it towards Irelia.

"This… is the first lesson."

At her words, the idol sprouted and shot out massive tentacles from its mouth, all of them making a beeline towards Irelia, who aligned her blades in a defensive circular formation around her. The tentacles shot straight through them, plunging through Irelia's chest. She felt strangely fatigued and cold and suddenly, the entire room went dark, enveloped by a crushing tide, as if a hurricane appeared out of nowhere and brought the entire ocean with it. She struggled to maintain her balance, barely keeping her blades under control as a dozen ethereal tentacles sprouted around her. She suddenly felt a draining sensation, as if her magic was leaving her. As she raised her head, she noticed why; in front of her, the entire world drowned in a swirling vortex and at the center of it all stood… herself. A phantom, an echo of own soul floated in the vortex, silently staring through her, both beckoning and warning her away. As she took her first step forward, the tentacles suddenly swung at her. Having caught the movements from the corners of her eyes, Irelia barely moved to avoid the earth-shaking slams, the miniature quakes destabilizing her already-imbalanced stance even further. As she tried to regain her footing, another tentacle swung at her, knocking her away, the air out of her lungs and on her back. Clutching her stomach in pain, she powered through it, getting back on her feet and searching for the echo of her soul, feeling strangely drawn to it, as if a part of her was stolen and she needed to get it back.

"**Not bad, Irelia. But you must keep going.**" She heard voice coming from all around her, recognizing it immediately.

"Illaoi! What is this?!" She demanded to know, her own voice echoing throughout the crushing dark, the priestess' laugh being the only response she received.

"**This, girl, is the Test. To all of us in Buhru, battle is not a trial of strength. It is a trial of **_**will**_**. Let us see whether or not yours is exaggerated.**" Illaoi challenged her. As she finished, the tentacles swung at her again, this time in quick succession. A sudden influx of strength pushed Irelia to dodge them, dashing towards the piece of her soul. She couldn't describe it, not even to herself, but she felt she needed to reach it.

"**Good. Your instincts are strong. Now use them!**" Illaoi sounded of. Irelia noticed that the priestess had strangely disappeared, but now was not the time for that. As another tentacle swiped at her, she ducked beneath it, feeling the wind's force on her head. Despite their ghostly appearance, they were solid enough to hurt her like hell and it certainly felt that way. Another one swung at her feet, Irelia gracefully jumping over it; the closer she got to her soul piece, the stronger she felt. As she weaved through the swipes, attempted grips, slams and pierces, she closed the distance between her and her soul shard, eager to be reunited. The last tentacle guarding the shard made a reeling motion, with Irelia anticipating the slam and moving aside at the last second, climbing over the tentacle and reaching with her hand for her soul shard. As her fingers made contact with it, however, a painful and powerful sensation poured over her, enveloping her body and mind. Trying to steady herself once again, she saw strange images of distant lands, strange flora, animals she had never even imagined existed, let alone seen. Next were people, faces she didn't recognize but felt eerily familiar to her. It ended quickly, but another one came; same pattern, different images. As her mind struggled to gain a foothold, Illaoi's voice entered it, having gained an entrance trough her contact with her shard.

"**Tell me, girl… do you think your soul is yours? Do you think your life belongs to you? Is the soul before you part of you… or are **_**you**_** part of **_**it**_**?**" Illaoi spoke to her, rattling her mind in more ways than one. The vibrations caused her to lose control over her crest, the blades falling to the ground with unceremonious clangs.

"Wha- Argh! What are y-you… talking about?! What are you doing to me?!" Irelia still demanded answers even through her pain.

"**I am testing you, girl. Now fight. Move forward. Go. GO! FLY!**" Illaoi answered vaguely and stirred her onward, a twofold encouragement in the forms of a cheer and a swung tentacle. Tearing her hand off the soul shard, Irelia dashed backwards with her remaining strength, losing her balance from the sudden speed and falling over. As she steadied her mind, the images disappeared and her stamina returned, a breath of fresh air gracing her lungs. She flipped upright and recalled her blades, the pieces obeying her like a concert conductress, shimmering soft metal sounds as they formed around her once again. The tentacles retracted and formed around her soul shard, almost as if daring her to approach.

"**Try again, girl. The vortex won't just let you have things. You must earn them and that includes the things that have been taken from you.**" The priestess spoke. It was strange; Irelia expected taunts, but what she got was advice… almost wisdom, even. Deep inside, even with her missing part, she felt the priestess' words rang true. Readying herself, she eyed her routes; every single angle was covered, making a direct attack useless. She had to make them expose the shard so she could commune with it long enough to claim it back.

…How did she know these things? How did she know what to do? The questions swam in her head, yet her heart knew what to do and why. She would have to get answers later. Right now, she needed to be complete.

She dashed forward, observing the motions of the tentacles. The closest one to her right initiated the counterattack, reeling back and swiping forward. As it slammed down right in front of her, she jumped up and started running on it, easily keeping her balance thanks to her training and dancing. The other tentacles slammed and swiped at her, but with every dodged strike she kept accelerating until finally, the soul shard was within reach, staring at her with its still gaze. She dashed in, reaching for the shard until she touched the tip of its shoulder. As expected, her mind was once again assaulted by images and memories, all of them feeling scarily familiar the more they flashed. Her body started feeling the effects as well; pain in unwounded and unbruised places, soft sensations of wheat chaffs on her fingertips, splashes of clean water on her face, warm grainy sands beneath her feet…

"**Do you really think that your journeys will be over once you pass this test, Irelia Xan?**" The priestess asked. Strange. Irelia didn't remember telling Illaoi her family's name.

"**Do you think that your victory against Noxus was enough to drive them out?**" How did she know about that? Was her legend that far spread?

"**Do you think that if you truly win and make them never return, it will be the end of your struggle?**" It managed to pierce her mind and almost break away another piece of her soul. Did her struggles have no end? If they didn't have an end, what was the point of them? Why fight if not to end the fighting? Why fight if not to defend her home, her people, her friends and herself? Before she could imagine an answer, she was once again torn from the soul shard. Each time she touched it and remained connected to it, however, she felt her own soul becoming more and more healed, causing her mind and body to become stronger in return. Before she could hit the ground, she twirled mid-air and landed perfectly. Feeling the motions around her become heavy and multiplied, she looked up, unable to stop the surprise from smearing on her face.

The tentacles were larger and more numerous now, more spread out and daring her to claim her soul shard back. The murky depths all around her had turned into strong currents, dragging almost everything backwards and towards them, pulling her further away from the soul shard. She held, though. She would not give up now, not when they were both so close.

"**Do you think you won't hurt him again?**"

It froze her in place.

The pain across her belly, the howling wind and the pulling sensation snapped her out of it, as the swipe from the nearest tentacle found its mark. As she landed, her legs got caught in the currents, dragging her further and further away into an endless abyss. She swam, trying to grab hold of something when another tentacle came down on her, gripping her tightly and pulling her down further. She tried loosening it desperately, her strength failing to even register on the ethereal flesh. Was she going to drown, here and now? It would at least be over… no more fighting… no more pain… just her and her family, together again…

… And her friends would be alone, her homeland defenceless, her legacy gone forever and her enemies victorious.

Her will ignited from within, splitting her crest violently and slicing the tentacle clean, even through its wide girth. She swam fervently, breaking through the dark water's surface and gasping for air. Once she had enough, she stood upright, a tiny spark in her eyes piercing through the score of tentacles and finding its way to the soul shard, which suddenly turned its head slowly towards her, as if acknowledging her.

"**This is the truth, Irelia Xan. Your soul was never yours. As all things, it belongs to the vortex. It belongs to Nagakabouros. Your desires, strength, will and wisdom, however, have been yours since you took you first breath into this world.**" Illaoi spoke, her reverence for her god prevalent in her voice.

"**These make you who you are and give you the might needed to claim what you want. You want Noxus destroyed? Then sweep them away like the storm that you are. You want Ionia safe? Then stand defiant against all who challenge it. You want your friends to fight by your side? Then fan the fires of hope in them. You have so much power in you, girl. But you **_**must**_** use it. Do not fear it or you will **_**never**_** find your way out of the vortex and back to Runeterra. Believe me, Irelia Xan. It is a world worth returning to.**" The priestess finished, the tentacles slowly reeling back to swipe once again.

"**But it will move forward without you. It is faster than you. It is up to you to catch up. The flow cannot be stopped. So… you must swim. You must move!**" The tentacles were fully reared to strike, towering over Irelia like mountains.

"**You must FIGHT!**"

The miniature gales and looming shadows heralded the unblockable strikes of the tentacles. Irelia's breath was in her throat, her hands clenched and her eyes wide; if her soul was never hers, what was the point of trying to claim it? Would it really be her, with all her feelings and experiences? Would all the pain and joy be hers? Would she truly be complete with it… or just have an emptier hole to fill inside her? The priestess was right. The flow couldn't be stopped. One simply had to flow with it… like dancing…

She finally found her breath as time seemingly slowed around her; she observed the tentacles' trajectories, finding a path between them. Just like combat…

She planned out the route, all the required motions and how to time them. Just like strategy…

"Thank you, Illaoi." She spoke to herself, but somehow she knew the priestess heard her.

She began slowly, as with all dances. The first tentacle crashed down, Irelia gracefully avoiding it with a simple twirl. Using all of her experiences from before, she weaved through the smashes, swipes, grabs and pierces, following the route and manoeuvring through the flow of battle. One couldn't stop it… but they could redirect it, sometimes with the subtlest and simplest of means.

"**Good. Keep going. The flow will carry you to your destination.**" The priestess' voice rang out. This time, however, Irelia responded.

"The flow only gives you _one_ way. I'll find my own. I always have." Irelia eyed the next incoming tentacle. As she sidestepped it, she thrust her blades into the sides, slowly feeling its strength. She realized that with just the right amount of leverage, she could move it, enough to surprise the priestess. As the next one swung, she made a circular motion with her hands and body, the blades beginning to carry the tentacle in front of the other. As they collided, Irelia hopped over them, continuing towards her soul shard. Another tentacle came down, Irelia easily avoiding the strike and stabbing it deep. As the others closed in around her, she twirled once more, enveloping herself with the stabbed tentacle and deflecting the other strikes. As they crumpled and reeled from their own strength being turned against them, Irelia unravelled the shielding tentacle and sent her blades out at the others, capturing all of them easily. An idea appeared inside her head and this was the perfect opportunity to see it realized. Although she only saw him perform the move once, his motions crude yet strong, she decided to mimic Garen's strange and ungainly spinning move. With a breath, she twirled around herself, adding her own elegance to his spin. The tentacles followed her, slowly entangling themselves beneath her, raising her on jumbled ethereal tower until she was in sight of her soul shard, its eerie teal eyes gazing eagerly back. At the height of her spin, she retracted her blades with a fluid upward motion of her arms, the tentacle tower slowly collapsing from the sudden loss of stability and control until it landed with a massive, earth-shaking slam right before her soul shard. The slam dispersed the tentacles as the drowned world around her slowly stood still, a far cry from the philosophy of the Buhru. Irelia only saw one thing and it was beckoning her closer.

"My soul is my own, priestess. Despite all of this, that one fact hasn't changed. Your god cannot take it from me." Irelia reached out, the soul shard now mimicking the motion until the tips of their fingers touched.

"You were right about one thing, though. I must move forward. Your god's ways are not my ways, however. I follow my own path. I will walk. I will swim. I will fly… until I cannot anymore. And unlike you…" The images appeared once again, but this time they were her own; O-ma teaching her how to step properly on her toes, her brothers giving her a dancing attire for her tenth birthday, her parents telling her that she had been accepted into a dancing school… and they moved further onward; the stand at the Placidium, hope reignited in the hearts of her people, the battle being won… further still, the retaliation of their hated enemy, Darha, Akali, the lightning yordle and the wind warrior all standing by her side… and then, one last set. Garen and her fighting back to back in Noxus, Fizz greeting her warmly, offering her the golden key as a reward, both of them coming to help her against the drowned man, having fun with her, being there for her and she in turn helping them with their troubles until it came to the last image, one she had unknowingly burned into her mind, one that gave her a feeling of seeing the sun after a long, cold and stormy night…

Garen's smile.

'It's going to be alright.' It wasn't Illaoi's voice or her own. It was his.

"…I will do it side by side with the people I care about and fight for."

The shard melded with her, seemingly happy to be a part of her once more. As it fully disappeared in her body, she felt renewed and full, as if eating a whole meal or drinking a well-made beverage. The drowned world around fully dissipated, with the Kraken Priestess coming into view along with the temple, now a little more battered from the struggle. Irelia took in her surroundings, noting one that puzzled her, which was Illaoi's wide and satisfied smile.

"Well done, Irelia Xan. You have passed the Test." The priestess put her idol down, clapping loudly.

"You… are absolutely insane, you know that?" Irelia half-joked. She received the expected roar of laughter in response.

"Perhaps I am. But that's a good thing for me and for those who survive me. Ah, but enough talk. Bring the proud eagle inside. Let us see how he fares, shall we?" Illaoi was eager to test the Demacian soldier. Irelia wanted to ask more questions about what she saw, but the priestess wasn't patient and neither were her bruises and cuts. With a final courteous bow, she pushed open the doors and exited the great temple. It was then that her nerves caught up to the pain, her body slowly starting to feel the bruises and cuts thanks to the wind. Almost blinded from seeing the sun after a long while, she didn't feel the warm embrace until the arms were fully around her.

"The whole temple glowed and there were massive slamming noises… I couldn't budge the gates, no matter how hard I pushed! I… I just…" Garen stammered trying to find the right response to the whole situation. Irelia was still trying to process the hug in her mind and soul.

"I'm glad you're okay." That one simple response made her wish she return the gesture, had her aching body not slapped her back to reality.

"Me too, big guy. Not to sour the moment, but I hurt literally everywhere…" She groaned out, making Garen release her in alarm.

"Sorry! Any serious injuries? I can help you down the stairs." He offered.

"Just a place to sit down and some fresh air. Before you offer, Illaoi is waiting for you. Not patiently, mind you, so move your butt." Irelia smiled in comfort, writhing a little while taking a seat on the steps, a detail Garen absolutely refused to ignore along with the other cuts along her arms and torso.

"She can wait for all I care. You need help." Garen would have none of her excuses. Irelia wanted to protest, but the Might of Demacia simply picked her up and began carrying her down the stairs.

"Garen! Wha- I'm fine, you oaf! You don't need to-!" She began objecting, but Garen simply continued onward.

"You're hurt and tired. I'm not leaving you alone until we find Fizz or someone to take a look at you." He picked up the pace, partly to get her patched up and partly to stop her from yelling at him further. Reaching the bottom and the crowds, he spotted Fizz entertaining a group of kids with an improvised toolset consisting of a sardine, a watermelon and a flagpole. He ceased the antics when he spotted them, rushing past the disappointed children.

"Whoa. You look terrible. Garen, is she alright?" Fizz asked.

"I'm fine-"

"A few bruises and cuts here and there. Can you help her out? Patch her up, maybe?" Garen interrupted her.

"I got just the thing. Come on, Irelia. I promise the salve only stings for a little bit, but helps a lot." Fizz pointed towards an herbal stall as Garen set her down on her feet.

"… Thanks, but you better get going." She flashed him a look of gratitude.

"Right. See you later, then?"

"Try not to die."

"Aw. You'd miss me?"

"Only if somebody bumps me on the head or gets in the way of my blades." She waved him off, hiding the smile lest she give him more ammo. Garen turned to walk up the stairs again, satisfied with himself and his improvements in the sass department. Ascending up the steps carefully pacing himself as not to lose too much stamina, he pushed open the great gates of the temple, finding himself face to face with an angry priestess.

"Took you sweet time, boy." Illaoi raised her idol rather forcefully; she did not like this matter being delayed, especially by one that desperately needed it.

"Irelia needed my help. You understand, I hope?" His response only vexed her further.

"Again you stand in each other's ways. When will you learn that we grow stronger only when we walk our own paths? To share strength is to give to those who cannot fight for themselves, spreading weakness further, a disease that infects this world and will never allow it to recover for as long as it exists." She couldn't help but let out her frustrations. Garen was as stubborn as they came, but he was holding himself back due to his principles, part his own fault and the part Demacia's. He had a heart of gold instead of iron… and everyone knew which metal was the softer one.

"Strength is gained for one's own sake, yes, but it's who we use it for and how we handle our responsibility with it that matters most. I chose that path a long time ago." Garen answered, steadfast and rooted in his own beliefs.

Beliefs that Illaoi thought archaic and outdated.

"You think you soar high, great eagle, but you are only perched on top of a weak and cracking branch. Let me break that illusion of yours." She pointed the idol at him, giving him no time to prepare or even reach for his sword.

"Let me open your eyes!"

The tentacles shot outward from the idol, enveloping him and piercing his chest as they pulled out a phantom with his visage, anchoring it in place. He felt his strength rapidly diminish, struggling to stay upright. As the dark teal waters enveloped the temple, Garen searched for the priestess, finding no sign of her and reaching for his sword

"Where are you, Illaoi?! What is this?!" He drew the blade, taking his stance as the waters around him formed into spectral tentacles, all of them looming over him.

"**This, little vain eagle, is the truth.**" Her voice was all around him, almost sounding as if she was taunting him. Garen felt disoriented, barely holding on to his sight and focus as he struggled to stand upright. He got his thoughts in order just as a tentacle came down on him, missing by hair's width and shaking the ground. Garen saw his opportunity and charged forward, slicing the tentacle in two with one strike. He was surprised at how that worked, seeing as he didn't know that the tentacles could even be harmed by normal means. He didn't have time to plan further as the others soon followed, strikes, swipes and grabs all trying to take down the Demacian knight, who simply dodged and weaved through all of them, getting a few slices in here and there. The last attempt came from behind him, however, as the swipe found his blind spot and grabbed him, pulling him up for a slam. Unlike Irelia, Garen forced the tentacle open with only his raw strength, loosening the grip and slicing the tentacle from top to bottom. As he landed, another swipe knocked him into another's grasp as the rest of them stretched out, reaching hungrily for him. Gripping his sword in reverse, Garen stabbed the tentacle that grabbed him and began spinning, a whirlwind of sharkbone tearing through the ethereal onslaught until there was nothing left but Garen and his soul's echo.

As the storm of steel subsided, Garen eyed the soul shard, it staring blankly back at him. Curiosity got the better of him as he approached, sword still tightly gripped.

"Illaoi?! What is this trickery?! Where are you, priestess?! ANSWER ME!" Garen searched and called out, to no avail as only the current's watery murmurs answered him. He looked around, making sure there were no other threats and then turned to the soul shard. Every single bit of his being screamed at him not to make contact with the shard, save for a tiny, almost silent whisper beneath them. He didn't know what to do; the dark, ghostly currents were swirling around him, offering no way out. Seeing no other choice, he carefully extended his hand, reaching for the shard's shoulder, doing his best to ignore the urges not to do so. As he made contact with it, the shard erupted with magic, flooding his mind and body with countless images and energy. Memories that weren't his overtook his sight, showing him many images of people he felt were somehow familiar, places he had never seen yet knew how to navigate for some reason. All of them cycled through many eyes, many faces and many emotions, overloading his mind and wearing his body out. He started pushing them out, trying to remember his original and true self, slowly but surely pushing out the invading thoughts as he took hold of his mind and his body. The battle broke the tether as both Garen and his soul shard were blasted backwards, the shard slowly floating to the ground while Garen held himself on his feet through will and newfound strength.

"**Your rejection of the tide is why you cannot change and grow, Garen Crownguard. Thrash and struggle all you want, but the flow cannot be stopped. The seas are part of this world and to traverse them, we must all learn to how swim eventually. Those who do not… will drown.**" Illaoi sounded of all around yet again, her voice distorted yet calm.

"Illaoi! Where are you?!" Garen still searched for her, but that was cut short as another set of tentacles rose from all around him. He steeled himself, charging at the nearest ones and slicing them apart.

"**You think you have learned all there is to know, Garen. You think your knowledge is enough to strengthen and hold together your beliefs. You have stagnated, a still puddle in a lightless cave of sloth and grief. You have been blind for too long, your strength atrophied and your will fragile and soft. I will make you see. I will make you move. Now rise, Crownguard. Spread your wings and fly. The great maelstrom beneath you will eventually reach your branch. Before that happens, you must **_**fly**_**!**" The priestess preached to him as another tentacle slammed into him, Garen barely withstanding the strike and pushing it off. He swung his sword yet again, but like a hydra, the tentacles only sprouted faster the more he cut down.

"**You think victory will make you safe? Oh, child… if only you could see the truth. There is no such thing as the last fight. Only the next… and the next one after that. There is no end, Garen. There is only the vortex.**" Illaoi rang out, the tentacles becoming more aggressive with each word spoken. Garen, however, was unfamiliar with the term 'give up'. He weathered every attack, dodged every heavy blow and cut his way out of the ghostly twisting assault. The faster they kept sprouting out of the abyss, the more determined he grew to defeat them and escape this watery void. If he could get out of this, pass whatever this Test of theirs was, he could leave the Isles…

"… **And where would you go, little eagle? Where would you fly to?**"

It halted him for half a second.

It was enough for a tentacle to grab his sword and wrench it from his hand, snapping him out, though not fast enough for him to dodge the slam. It drove him into the ground, hitting him square on his shoulders and pinning him. The other tentacles loomed over him, shadows signalling his imminent death, the drowning abyss beneath him welcoming him to the eternal darkness. His sword was out of reach and the soul shard was slowly closing its eyes, accepting his and its own fate. He looked up, seeing the tentacles reeled and poised to strike. Would it all end here? Would he die, alone, helpless and far from home? Would he never return?

Would he never see his family and friends again?

No. This would not be his fate. He would fight to the bitter end.

As the tentacles came down, he squirmed just enough to squeeze through the grasp and crawl out of the way just in time before they hit the ground. The slam shook the ground beneath him, knocking him away… and within his sword's reach. Grabbing and jumping on his feet, he surveyed the situation; the tentacles were following him while some formed around the soul shard, its eyes now open again and peering at him.

'That has to be it.'

Without further doubt, he charged forward, dodging the strikes and slicing through until he was right on top the soul shard. He drew his sword upward and with a mighty roar brought it down on the shard's head. The moment his sword made contact with it, however, the shard exploded outward, blasting him with magic and knocking him back. The images invaded his mind yet again as his body got caught in the cold swirling abyss, dragging him further downward. Struggling to both stay on the surface and to drive the images out of his mind, Garen was at his limit, his strength slowly beginning to give out.

"**So this is the reach of your wings, little eagle. The flood has taken your tree, leaving you without a home to perch on. Your wings have withered from disuse, leaving you unprepared for your flight. And now you plummet to the hungry waters, your body to be food for its beasts while your soul returns to the vortex. You have disappointed me. Through your inaction and pride, you have offended my god.**" Illaoi spoke, as if both scolding a child and berating her greatest enemy. Under each word, his strength diminished more and more, his will unable to keep up.

"**Your soul was never yours, Garen Crownguard. It has always belonged to Nagakabouros. Your procrastinations, your vanity and your stupidity have squandered her gift to you. You are not worthy of it!**" The priestess was sounding angrier. He swung his sword, stabbing the ground and holding on for his life, his eyes catching a glimpse of the soul shard; like him, it was slowly fading into the ground, the vortex swallowing it as well and the tentacles guarding it now making a beeline for him. He searched desperately for a way out, to no avail; above him a looming unearthly sky-blotting mass of tentacles while beneath him a yawning maw of eternal, starless and freezing night. As the tentacles reeled and the abyss howled, one last image graced his mind; a great maelstrom with a myriad souls and stars eddying along with it.

"**This is the truth, Garen Crownguard. Motion is all. Motion is blessed. You and your kingdom have failed to accept it, to see the truth behind this wonderful world. It, along with countless others, our great sun and moon and the infinite souls are all part of the vortex, a grand wheel spinning the Universe. All are part of the motion, moving it with their desires. Those that are not only slow it down, rusted hinges in need of replacing so the wheel can turn. As it turns, it drives us toward our purpose, our desires and our fates. The wheel of life turns the Universe. This is the truth behind the chaos you and your beliefs eschew in favour of fear and safety, broken notions and pebbles along the road. This is the reality you have **_**failed**_** to accept. Everything moves towards its destiny! ALL IS MOTION!**" Illaoi bellowed one last time, the tentacles plummeting down on him and abyssal maw closing its jaws shut around him. Garen simply closed his eyes.

He had always been the dutiful soldier, serving and protecting the kingdom that nurtured him. His family was proud of his dedication to its laws and beliefs, things he upheld and exemplified through battle, vigilance and courage. Yet as Demacia stood by its laws, time flew ever onward, warping Runeterra and challenging it through and through, making it evolve properly and then, testing it by throwing whatever it could at it. While his kingdom stood tall and proud, those outside changed and grew, adapting to the world's troubles and its kindness and beauty. The chaos shaped landscapes into beautiful vistas, the storms cleansed the ocean of rubble and filth and the winds blew away the poisonous airs. Mortals then came and settled, building great things, climbing the tallest peaks and reaching for the stars.

And then, they fell.

Ambitions, plots, murders, wars, blood, chaos…

It all began anew, crumbling away their works, setting the world on fire and slaughtering each other. When the smoke cleared, the screams subsided and the blood stopped flowing, only the strongest were left…

…Left with what? A dead world? Soldiers in a dusty garden, filled with withered, dying plants? What was the point of it?

Is this what eternal motion brought about?

Was this the fate of Runeterra? Would his family and friends be caught in the vortex eventually? Was this what the wheel spun for? An eternal cycle of pain without purpose?

At the bottom of his despair, Garen finally opened his eyes.

The tentacles slammed on top of him all at once, the abyss below clamping shut the maw. A giant shockwave pulsed outward, halting the stream still and deafening the air. The priestess observed the knight's passing, his soul ready to join the vortex and begin anew. She turned to his soul shard…

… Which was still standing in its place.

'It's supposed to be returning to the vortex along with him.' Illaoi had never seen this before.

"Except for one thing."

Before she could realize what was happening, the tentacles began shifting slowly until they suddenly exploded outward, pushed away by a force unlike any she has seen. Below, the maw of the whirling abyss unhinged and broke, the waters turning deathly still. In the middle of it all, she saw a figure rise to its feet, slowly raising its head as two sparks in its eyes lit up the darkness. The low light revealed Garen, standing tall and strong, unwavering and resolute to challenge and overcome whatever stood in his way.

And now, his first true obstacle was before him.

"The wheel itself." He spoke, conviction seasoning his words as he took the first step forward.

"You speak of motion as a wheel. Tell me, Kraken Priestess. What is the purpose of a wheel?" He posed the first question, taking another forward. From outside the vortex, Illaoi could feel a slight quake in her boots. Her heart began to hope, almost fluttering with joy.

Had she finally found the one? Had she finally found a challenger?

"**To carry one to a destination.**" She answered, eager to see where this lead.

"Good. Answer me this, then. Where are we all going?"

"**That is for us to decide.**"

"Is it? Personally, I suspect… that none of us truly knows. Personally, I think this whole affair of yours, this wheel… turns in place. It cheats its purpose." He took two more steps. She felt it for sure that time, a shake the moved the floor and water surface.

"**I cannot comprehend the designs, Garen. A raindrop cannot comprehend the ocean it falls into.**" She challenged his statement, standing her ground.

"Says who? The raindrop… or the _ocean_?" The next step he took made a dent in the stone beneath him, cracking the floor.

"Who imposes the limits, Illaoi? Us… or those who fear what we might become? Those who fear what we might understand and know?" Two more steps, two more cracks. Illaoi saw he was looking through the trappings, ignoring his soul shard as he was right next to it. This was turning uncertain… and interesting.

"**Ha! You think you can challenge a god? You, a man who cannot even decide his own course in life? You will falter just as you did now, Garen. You cannot obtain perfection. No one can.**" Illaoi spoke, putting more and more dilemmas in his path.

It didn't even slow him down.

"That perfection is unobtainable is _no excuse_ not to strive for it." He moved past the soul shard, not even paying attention to it even as it started fidgeting.

"You speak of our souls moving the universe, but where is it going, Illaoi? Nowhere! It just spins in place, afraid to choose a path. And I know why, priestess. It was fairly obvious the moment you told me of your god's ways of moving it." He moved, unaware that he was now shaking the temple with every step he took. His soul shard was unable to stay in place any longer and was dragged back to his body, only fuelling him further.

"It is scared of choosing. Because it knows, priestess. It knows that all of those paths… will eventually come to an end." He reached the edge of the vortex, reaching out to touch it.

"You truly are its voice and mortal agent, priestess. You embody everything about your god… including its fallibilities." He traces the surface of the water, slowly parting until it became clearer and he could finally see the Kraken Priestess staring back at him, an uncertain yet pleased smile on her face.

"**And yet, my god moves while you sit still. Tell me, Crownguard. What lessons can you offer to me? What challenge would you bring that would move me?**" Deep inside, she was hoping this would turn into a fight. Nothing would bring her greater joy… except perhaps a steaming barbecue and a good mug of ale.

"The challenge of contemplation, priestess. In other words…" He drew his fist back, smashing into the wall of water and breaking the illusion he was under. The droplets of water dissolved into the stone all around him as he gazed upon the priestess, scanning her until he found his target; the idol.

"…I'll make you question the path you have taken." With that warning, he lunged at her, sword cast aside as he closed the distance with frightening speed for someone of his size. The priestess raised her idol with a smile, her wish coming true and her day becoming a _lot_ more interesting. Bringing it down, she aimed for his head, but the Demacian soldier stopped at the last second. Instead of moving like she predicted, he steeled his feet to the floor and grabbed the idol mid swing, locking himself in place against the priestess. Surprised by the move but satisfaction no less diminished, Illaoi noticed that Garen was trying to wrench the idol from her hands. She pulled it back, but Garen's strength matched hers, even if she was taller and heavier than him. The idol began glowing from their struggle, as if the very god it was dedicated to had decided to observe the fight and see its outcome.

Two challengers on opposite sides of the spectrum, Garen and Illaoi were now locked in combat, the Test entering its final stages and the most powerful and revered deity of the Isles as their witness.

"What's the matter, priestess? Why don't you move?" He taunted, refusing to give up even an inch of ground.

"Using my own lessons against me? You're learning, Garen. Excellent!" She exclaimed, satisfied that her lessons were getting through.

"Not even remotely, Illaoi." Garen corrected her, gaining an influx of might and pulling the idol toward him.

"What then, boy?" Illaoi pulled back, feet firmly rooted in the floor.

"I'm using my own beliefs for me. And I have another question for you, priestess."

"Must you ask so much?"

"Of course. How else can I make you wonder whether or not you've even moved at all, oblivious to the fact that you have been rooted for so long." He pulled even stronger, managing to gain a foothold. The temple began shaking, the roof and foundations slowly cracking from the earthquake. The two combatants paid no heed to their surroundings or the damage they caused to them. From outside, the mountaintop began both feeling and spreading the effects below it, the Buhruans now gathering and wondering what was happening in the temple. Among them, Fizz and Irelia looked at the gates, only one person on both their alarmed minds.

The murals of the temple began feeling the effects, the walls slowly crumbling away from the magical force of the idol. Garen and Illaoi stood unfazed, their only concern bring victory.

"What are you on about, Demacian?"

"How long have you been a servant of Nagakabouros, Illaoi?"

"All my life." Her conviction was as strong as his.

"And it has taught you that motion is necessary for growth?"

"Any halfwit can learn that, Garen. She did more than that. She opened my eyes. Without challenge, we cannot know our strength, in our beliefs and our will." She responded, regaining her ground. She noticed a smile form on his face, one of skepticism and amusement.

"Then how come you haven't moved away from your god?"

Widening eyes. Slight loosening in her grip. It was all Garen needed.

With a heave of might, he wrenched the idol away from the priestess, knocking her an inch back and making the idol go out of control. Tentacles lashed out of it, damaging the frescoes, murals and weakening the already fragile walls, making the entire eastern section collapse, letting the sunlight in. Garen struggled to keep control of the idol, turning it to face him. In his heart, he knew Nagakabouros was listening… and he had some choice words for her.

"I don't know if you even care, deity, but your ways are not to my taste. So on the off chance you don't, start caring. Because if you come after me or my friends with some ideas about taking our souls for your own amusement, I will personally show the world… that gods can _bleed_." He gripped the idol tightly, loosening more power from it.

"You think you what mortals need, but in the end, a god's a god. Like the rest of your kind, you don't care about our struggles, only that they align with your agendas. You think your way is the best, but the truth is you want it to be the _only_ way." He raised the idol above his head, the metal ball erupting with teal energy.

"I don't need you. Runeterra doesn't need you. The universe doesn't need you. We will make our own choices and elect our own fate. They may be finite, but that's what makes them meaningful. It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow or it may not be in ten thousand millennia, but this universe will end. An eternal universe is a pointless one. An eternal battle is a pointless one." The idol was fully above him, the metal bending from the magic.

"All is motion… except motion itself! I will pass this test… AND NO GOD OR MORTAL WILL PREVENT ME FROM RETURNING HOME!"

With his final lesson learned, he smashed the idol into the ground.

The force of the smash caused the magic in the idol to go completely haywire, shattering the temple walls and completely exposing the roof. The light green torrent erupted towards the skies like a volcano, parting the gathering clouds. The Buhruans, commoners and priests alike, could only stare at the spectacle, many of them starting to pray while others scrambled about their friends and loved ones. From beneath the crowds, Fizz felt as if the whole universe moved, as if kicked out of its bed.

"Irelia, did you-" He looked up, finding only a parted sky. The Ionian in question was already sprinting up the stairs, prompting the yordle to follow.

As the torrent of magic subsided, disappearing into the skies like a billow, Illaoi lowered the arm she used to shield herself from the gale, finding her broken idol embedded in the center of the shattered floor mural, Garen standing in front of it with his fists clenched, his neck out, jaws squared and chest puffed.

At last, the great Demacian Eagle had spread his wings, soaring high into the skies.

The priestess clapped loudly and heartily, a huge smile on her face.

"Well done, Garen Crownguard. You have passed the Test."

* * *

Irelia rushed up the steps, not stopping for breath or rest as she sighted the wooden doors. Splitting her crest mid-sprint, she thrust the six largest blades forward, splintering the wood. With the momentum she built up, Irelia rushed forward, breaking open the doors with a shoulder smash, stopping to take a look and a breath.

Illaoi stood in the center, watching the now-clear sunset coloring the horizon in darkening shades of pink, orange and blue. The distant waves crashed on the shore, washing them clean of filth or leaving them gifts, a scallop here, a shell there and even the occasional conch. The temple's domed roof, eastern and western sections were entirely collapsed into rubble. From Irelia's point of view, it created an image of division, light and darkness from the west and east respectively, with the roof melding them into twilight. She looked down again, behind Illaoi's massive frame, revealing a lone man gazing up at the stars in contemplation. Upon her shattering the doors, they both turned, the smile on Illaoi's face growing wider.

"Ha ha! See, boy? I told you she'd be the first to get here. Her wings are as great as yours." Illaoi called out to Garen, who only curved his lip slightly upward. The tiny sparks in his eyes conveyed the rest of his relief. The dancer rushed past the priestess, not caring for her words or actions, not stopping until she was in front of the soldier. She looked him over; he was beaten and battered, but otherwise seemed fine.

"Heh… you _are_ worried."

"No, I was just…" There was no point being dishonest about it.

"I was." No point in hiding it, either.

"I'm fine." He placated her as much as he could.

"So you are… well, relatively." She placed a hand on his arm, feeling the shabby, roughened skin filled with bruises and cuts.

"I've had worse."

"Liar."

"Believe what you will." Once again, his smile turned sly.

He turned his gaze to the horizon in the west, watching the last light of the day slowly sink into the sea. Irelia kept silent even though the urge to speak was dangerously close to convincing her to do so.

"After all that, great eagle, you still perch and gaze at the horizon?" Illaoi snapped both of them out, striding towards them empty-handed for the first time in a long while.

"Just thinking about my journey. You were right, priestess. I've been idle for far too long… and so has my kingdom. If we are ever to find our place on Runeterra, we must first search ourselves and then… see what the rest of it has to offer." Garen didn't avert his gaze. Thoughts of petricite gates, grand and carved with avatars of protection and vigil swam in his mind, but he just stood in front of them. He had the strength to push them open, but he wasn't sure he should. What would his return change? Would it help Demacia move forward with its ideals… or prove the old ones right all along? Would it just circle down the vortex, only to begin anew?

He had to find answers, for himself and those he loved.

"Do you have a moment, priestess?" Something prompted him to ask.

"Well, seeing as how the temple is in ruins but the sight and company are unique, I will find one. Time is as long or as short as we make it out to be." Illaoi sat down on a broken stone, bidding them to join her, Garen and Irelia following.

"Oh, huh… Yeah… Apologies, priestess. We can help repair it, if you'll have us." Garen blushed light pink with embarrassment. In the heat of the moment, he lost control over himself… and yet felt strangely reinvigorated, his beliefs now truly unwavering and his will once again stronger than steel.

"I doubt you have the patience for painting murals or lifting stone after stone for a month, eagle. Besides… I think I like this new design. Helps with the fresh air and the view… and what a view it is. Should others survive the Test, they will witness what they have earned… and what they fight for." Illaoi stretched her back and loosened her shoulders, taking in the saltwater air.

"I never imagined… Back home, I thought the beauty of the world was reserved only for Ionia, but now I see that there are many places worth seeing and protecting outside of it. I feel like I should apologize to someone, or everyone, for not noticing that…" Irelia mused on her experiences; life in Bilgewater, Buhru and the Isles in general had been rough and unapologetic, testing her limit and soul, literally in the latter's case. And throughout it all, she endured and became stronger. She had made friends, enemies and even gotten a strange artefact from the seas themselves. She had participated in customs both appalling and wondrous, scorning the former while revelling in the latter. And through all of those events, she was never alone, looking away from the waking stars in the darkening skies for just a moment to Garen. Rather, she thought it would be a moment until Garen suddenly turned, locking eyes with her.

The moment turned into an eternity, even though half a minute passed. Illaoi caught it but let it unfold, wondering what change would it bring to their hearts.

"Well, I'll soon be making the comparison for myself in that regard." Garen was the first to burst the timeless bubble they found themselves in again.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I'm not going through the blockade, the ice or the jungles." Her heart began filling with hope, almost ready to burst what his next words would be.

"I'm going to Ionia with you."

Even though night was looming over them, she was warm and filled with energy. At last she had gotten through to him. At last she had made a decision that would save her friend, not doom him like all the others.

At last, her hope for the future surfaced.

"Together, then?" She said, extending her hand and almost beaming at the thought. Garen simply took it with the same gesture.

"Together."

Throughout the exchange, Illaoi observed the Eagle and the Phoenix, catching a glimpse of their true feelings for their journey, their families, their homes and their friends…

… and the smallest, most obscure glint about each other.

"What the hell happened here?!" Fizz and the priests, along with many citizens arrived on the scene at last, both alarmed and curious to what transpired on top of the mountain. It would be a long night, it seemed.

* * *

The rising sun provided the denizens with much needed energy; the temple needed repairing as quickly as possible, though Illaoi wanted to keep a few of the 'changes' they made with the travellers. Below the mountain, the docks were busy as well, one ship being retrofitted in particular, a ship bound for the distant First Lands. On the deck on a makeshift table, Irelia and captain Opal stood over a map, going over the routes and confirming their stops. Garen sat on the ship's bow, looking toward the horizon, with the little blue yordle beside him.

"So… this is your choice, huh?" Fizz asked, wanting to hear what he had to say.

"Yep. I figured she was right, you know? I won't achieve anything on my own or I'd just mess it up. I have a better shot reaching Demacia with help. It's how I got out of Noxus, after all." He reasoned.

"Well, I'm at least glad they room for one more. I wish I could come with you guys, but I don't think I'd stomach leaving Chomper alone." Fizz confessed. Garen simply petted the yordle.

"Good. Take care of your friends and yourself, Fizz. Truth be told… when I first saw, I wanted little to nothing to do with a creature of magic, only tolerating because of Irelia. And I still tolerate you because of Irelia, but the former reason simply… evaporated, like it was never there. I… I apologize." Garen confessed, looking the yordle square in the eyes. Fizz simply shrugged.

"No worries. Getting on people's nerves is my thing." He proclaimed as if listing his greatest quality. Garen smiled, the happiness diminishing with his next thought, however.

"I… wish we more time to speak. I wanted to ask you so many questions about your kind." He surprised himself at how much he had changed in so little time. Were he back in Demacia, he would have chased out the yordle without a second thought and worse, would've thought it the right thing to do. Now he was having trouble parting from the little guy.

"There are plenty more out there, big guy. You just gotta know where to look." Fizz placed a placating hand on his shoulder.

"I know of one… at least, I think he was. He helped us fight during Noxus' retaliation. Who knows, though… maybe there are more out there somewhere… I'm sure you'll find another in due time." Irelia joined them, kneeling down to Fizz's level.

"You promise you'll visit?"

"As soon as I can."

"You promise to take care of yourself?"

"I have before and I will again. Don't worry, Irelia. I'll watch my back. You two just make sure you watch each other's. I won't be here anymore to do it for you guys." Fizz spoke the sad truth. The two more interesting people that came into his life were now leaving, for reasons he understood on a personal level. He would never wish what happened to him on anyone, so he would never stand in their way. This also anchored him to Bilgewater; it didn't matter how far he travelled for sooner or later, he would always come back here. Didn't diminish his adventuring spirit any less, though…

He looked up at his friends, contemplating his choice of words and actions around them. They were different not only because they weren't from around here, but also because they have endured hardships that would've broken most people. Despite that, they were both still capable of happiness and understanding… or maybe the hope of those two things being achievable by them is what kept them going. Either way, Fizz considered himself lucky to have met them.

"And where do you two think you're going without saying farewell?" Illaoi's voice got their attention, the priestess standing behind them with a strange shoulder pad in her hands. The crew grew wary of her, some completely avoiding her while others revered her presence, accepting it as a sign that Nagakabouros has blessed their journey.

"Illaoi! What are you doing here? Not escaping your duties, I hope." Garen asked.

"Not in the slightest, my little eagle. In fact, I come bearing a gift." Illaoi presented the shoulder pad to Garen.

"Armour?"

"Not just any armour. This is the Dead Man's Plate, named after the people that carried it." They couldn't tell whether or not she was joking.

"Uhm… why are you giving it to me, then?"

"Because it is a good piece of armour. It used to belong to a… friend. He doesn't need it anymore." Illaoi withheld the name of the armour's previous owner and his well-being, lest they both start asking questions or start causing trouble.

"Huh… ok, then. I accept, if nothing else." Garen took the pauldron and put it on, the metal fitting quite graciously across his shoulder. Before he could comment, a metal vambrace extended downward from the pad, enveloping his arm and reaching all the way to his magic gauntlet.

"What the… What kind of armour is this?" Garen asked, suddenly suspicious of the priestess' gift.

"The kind you need, little eagle. It will help you fly, trust me." Illaoi spoke merrily, driving Garen slightly more on edge.

"Riiight. Well, thank you… I think."

"No need. Just make sure you use it properly. You'll find out what it does in time." Illaoi turned to leave, descending down the brow until she was on the pier.

"I'll keep you no longer, birds. Now go. Fly towards your destination. See the world for all it is." She waved one last goodbye and headed towards the temple.

"All aboard!" Before anyone could say anything, the call was given.

"Well, this is it, I guess. Just… keep on going, you two." Fizz extended his hands upward, Garen and Irelia crouching down for one last hug with the yordle.

"Stay as safe as possible, little guy. Don't let those drowned men or pesky sea beasts get you." Garen said his goodbye.

"Keep on learning, Fizz, and keep on being yourself. When you arrive in Ionia, just speak my name. The land will carry your voice to me." Irelia spoke hers. Despite knowing each other for only a few short months, they had grown quite close, enough to at least not want to part so soon. Fizz grabbed his trident and jumped overboard, swimming to the pier and jumping on top of it, with Chomper swimming beneath him and alarming the dockhands. He looked toward the rising sun, now dotted with a large vessel sailing into it and doing so until he could see the vessel no more.

Garen and Irelia looked back to the pier, holding their gaze until they couldn't see the Isles anymore. They thought back to the beginning of their adventure, how they met, what they did to survive, who they met, befriended and fought and what it taught them. Their thoughts turned to their goal, Garen almost anxiously looking to arrive in Ionia. Despite the trepidation, however, he was also interested in exploring a land opposite of his own in almost every way. He wondered what he would find there… and what would find him. Before contemplating further, he noticed Irelia next to him, her eyes on his own.

"Gotta admit, it is my first time bringing a boy to my house." She teased him.

"I promise I'll behave."

"I'm sure you will. Otherwise…" Her crest split and made a line across her throat, her expression eerily cheerful, making Garen gulp. No turning back now, though. He would see his journey to the end.

"It'll be okay. I promised you, didn't I?" It amazed him how easily she went from scary to comforting.

"Yes you did. To be honest, I look forward to seeing Ionia for all it has to offer me." He looked to the east, his face filled with enthusiasm and pride. Beside him, Irelia supressed a giggle at his boyish attitude yet felt the need to fan that fire inside him.

"Then I'll be sure to show you all she has… and all she can be." She looked in her homeland's direction, as if speaking to it, letting it know they will soon have an interesting guest. The travellers took in a breath of fresh air, the excitement of continuing their journey, the calm of the seas and skies, the squeaks of the seagulls and albatrosses, the busybody crews scrambling about, the wind murmuring past their ears, the sun bathing them in light and warmth and Runeterra stretching out before them.

It was time for a new chapter in their life.

* * *

From above the temple, Illaoi watched the ship leave, giving one last smile of approval. Beside her, the old Caller appeared, still cranky and murmuring. Noticing her gaze, he grew curious… or bored, whichever came first for him.

"Why give that to him, Illaoi? Has he really earned or were you just looking to get rid of it?" Motoi asked her.

"Both."

"Of course…"

"He needs it, Motoi. Clothes are nice when they fill a function and make you look good at the same time. It will help him fly towards his fate."

"What is his fate, anyway?"

"That's for him to decide."

"What? Not Nagakabouros?" Motoi asked, perturbed by her answer.

"Not anymore." She simply smiled. Turning to observe the temple's repairs, she spotted the new murals being placed opposite of the temple, worthy tributes to her god and the travellers that learned her lessons and challenged them.

Runeterra was a place of grand stories, legends passed down and told from one ear to another and tales of heroes and villains. Who was who depended on the point of view, but one couldn't exist without the other. Humans, vastaya and yordles all had them, from knights who defeated dragons, immortal iron-clad rulers that left their mark long after they were gone, unspeakable atrocities of magic and invaders from a dark reality beyond this one. Bilgewater was no different; it seemed to subsist on tales of daring and treasure, adventurers struggling to survive only to find either death or wealth. And today, Buhru gained two such legends, their colored murals being set in the temple's stones, marking their passage and serving as proof of their feats.

On the east, Irelia, dancing around the vortex, commanding life and the currents to obey her.

On the west, Garen, smashing the Eye of God above him with one hand while the rest of the vortex shattered around him, unable to harm him.

The Woman who moved the flow of life.

The Man who challenged Nagakabouros.

On that day, they were forever remembered by Buhru… and Runeterra herself.


	8. Ionia - The First Lands

**Ionia: Part I – The First Lands**

Calm waves gently rocked the Slashing Mermaid, as if a mother lulling her infant to sleep. Water fauna followed close behind, smelling the bait on the fresh morning air. The soft caress of the morning rays touched the slumbering crew, the helmsman and crow nester already awake. Finally, it was their turn to take a break. From the lower deck, two travellers were woken up by the bustle, stirring slowly from their hammocks.

Irelia yawned and stretched while Garen hopped up, refreshing himself with a few light and short exercises. He grabbed his sword while Irelia summoned her crest to her side. They followed the crew out to the deck, where captain Opal was already up, barking away orders. Garen got himself busy with the cannons while Irelia tied the sails' ropes to their cleats. An entire month on the open ocean was a bit boring, especially since Garen had told her everything about Demacia, its history, folktales, recent events, the Lightshield Dynasty, the Crownguard family, and the mage rebellion. He withheld telling her about Luxanna beyond her name and what she did, however. Irelia listened intently, discerning its moral dilemmas while trying to understand how its ideals both propelled it forward and held it back. She hadn't brought the issue of the ban on magic out in the open, agreeing with herself that it would be best to show him the boons of it. They had silently agreed that Irelia would only speak about Ionia in detail when they both got there… which was done a whole month ago. She also caught the glimpses of happiness when he mentioned his sister and the sorrow on his face when he delved further, but refused to go on. He would tell her when he was ready, though. She had much respect and patience for people in that regard.

"A month on the sea… I knew Ionia was far, but I didn't think it would take this long." Garen stated the obvious, not sure how to start their conversation for the day.

"True. When I was young, I was told that beyond our shores, there lay a distant world full of possibilities. I marveled at the stories, but in time, I outgrew that curiosity. Now, having seen it, I realized what I had been missing. I thought that Ionia was all that mattered, its beauty unmatched and its magic beyond compare. It's still on the top of my list, mind you, but I think there's more to this world than us defending ourselves from it." Irelia continued it, expertly tying a rope line to the mast. Their seafaring skills had been hones to the edge, having nothing else to do.

"The ocean separated us for a good reason, though… Noxus still has a foothold on our shores, still threatens the land with their presence and exploits our internal struggles to pillage our villages, temples and farms." She looked forlorn, the weight of an entire continent now solely on her back.

"Shouldering an entire nation by yourself, eh? Better make sure your feet are planted well." Having known the burden of wearing the sorrows and hopes of the citizens and soldiers of Demacia, Garen gave his advice for the topic.

"At least those are my sturdier parts." Irelia tied the last rope on the cleats, taking a seat on one of the empty crates, her crest lowering to the wooden deck. Garen finished cleaning the cannon barrels and setting the armaments in their place, dusting his hands and joining her. They always finished earlier, offering to the captain to assign them extra duties, but she refused, part out of politeness and part out of fear of them putting her crew of eighty out of a job by themselves. Seeing as they had nothing to do all day, they sat at the deck, observing the great blue twin horizons, with the occasional banter, jab and story sharing.

"Planting my feet… I don't know if I can hold out long enough to make a difference in that regard." The more they talked about it, the more Irelia began to doubt.

"You will." Not a single stutter. For some reason, she wanted to prove him right even more. The more he talked about his deeds and his upbringing, the more she began to see the similarities between him and herself. Two great warriors, standing defiant against the odds, unyielding and unshakeable, accomplishing heroic deeds in the eyes of their people, elevated by them to a paragon's pedestal… and yet, they came from the opposite sides of Runeterra, something that still burned in the back of her mind. A world so big to her before now seemed small in regard to the people. And yet there was still so much to learn, see, explore and enjoy… as well as fight, run from and scorn. There was something worth about it all at the end, though. She couldn't quite put her finger on it but there was.

She wanted to see it. She wanted Garen to see it.

"You're right. I shouldn't doubt myself. Not when I've accomplished so much."

"Exactly what I wanted to hear from you."

They allowed themselves a moment to enjoy the silence and each other's company. It was interrupted by a call from the crow's nest.

"Fog straight ahead!" When they heard the callout, the crew members immediately prepared their weapons.

"Crewman, what is that?" Garen asked.

"Magic fog, ser! No telling what awaits us inside… or if we'll even escape." The gunner answered, his eyes fixated on the encroaching wall of eclipsing grey and pink, which seemed to span the horizon.

"All hands, prepare for combat! We're sailing starboard until we find an opening!" Captain Opal called out, her First Mate Kole slowly steering the ship to the right.

"Belay that!" Irelia suddenly shouted, rushing past Garen and a few surprised crewmen until she was near the helm's stairs.

"What?! Irelia, with all due respect, that fog is dangerous. The last time we tried to sail through it, I lost five men fighting off the specters and the… things beneath the water. I'm not risking anymore, not even one." Opal held the helm with one hand, silently ordering Kole to stay the course while her other one was on her blunderbuss. Passenger or not, she was the captain of the Slashing Mermaid and if she had to prove by force or threat, she was more than willing to.

"That's because you've never sailed with an Ionian on board before. Captain, please." Irelia, however, remained passive and respectful of that fact.

"Trust me when I say this. Go straight through the fog… and let me lead." Her eyes conveyed hope and truth. Opal, hand still on her gun, looked at Kole.

"I dunno, cap'n. Last time I tangled with a fog, it did'n end well." After the battle of Port Mourn, Kole still had trouble forgetting the Harrowing. Very few survivors had such strength.

"It won't harm you or your crew. This I promise." Irelia swore to the captain and Kole. Opal looked to her crew, who were staring back at her, remembering the last time she saw her father. Garfield the Green was a true captain, always looking out for his family first, his men second and his ship third. Nowhere on that list did he include himself, which is what led to him dying to the kraken that almost claimed all three.

'Captain's duty, my little albatross. One day, you'll make it too.'

His last words to her before he gave her his hat and jumped overboard with his cutlass in hand into the jaws of death.

Every day she spent sailing, she wondered which day and in which situation would she make that decision. Maybe today was that day… or maybe she was making it all this time, sailing bravely towards new horizons and through rapids and monster-infested waters just to help her home and make a living. Or maybe today was just another day of simple seafaring. She gave Irelia one last glance, the Ionian still awaiting her decision patiently. As she turned to her crew, she spotted the Demacian, giving Irelia a proud look and a satisfied smile. Despite his views and values about magic, he trusted her and let her be his guide.

If someone like Garen could trust her, maybe she could trust her too.

"Alright, then." Opal took her hand of the gun and turned to Kole.

"We go through the fog." She spoke. Kole nodded, choosing to trust his captain.

"Through the fog, lads and lasses! Batten down!" He yelled out, stirring the crew into action. The sails were loosened and the cannons loaded. The crew was on full alert, weapons in hand and eyes open.

"Thank you, captain." Irelia simply said and rushed to the bow, Garen following closely behind. Once they were at the front, Irelia split her crest and aligned it into circular formation. Upon closer notice, Garen saw that the crest resembled a serpent coiling around the center, almost biting its own tail.

"It's the symbol of my home, Garen." Irelia answered his yet-to-be-posed question. Have they gotten that far in their friendship in only two months? He was both proud and worried about that fact.

"A serpent?"

"A dragon. A noble creature in my land, not like their savage cousins on the mainland." She lifted her arms forward, as if grasping for the fog, which was looming dangerously close. The crew was completely on guard now, the waves slowly and eerily calming even though the breeze was felt by both the sails and the people. Only the gentle parting of waves and the flapping sails were heard, along with the occasional breath. Out of all the people on the ship, only Irelia was calm, her eyes slowly closing and her feet becoming steadier the closer they got the fog.

They pierced the edge, getting steadily consumed by the air around them. Their vision slowly grew more and more obscured until they could see naught but grey and pink. Garen drew his sword, gripping it steady; he trusted Irelia, but everything else he did not.

"There's no need to defend me, Garen. I'm in no danger." It was almost as if she could feel what he was feeling. The way she spoke so calmly while maintaining an almost trance-like stillness was unnerving him greatly.

"I trust you… but I don't trust what's ahead of me."

Despite his willingness to start changing, the larger part of him still had trouble taking that first step towards understanding magic. He knew of the dangers firsthand and had seen exactly what could happen to those who misused or abused it. Although a part of her realized this when they had their first actual heart-to-heart their first night in the tavern back in Bilgewater, Irelia still hoped he would be more open to magic and understanding it on a deeper level. The trauma of losing a family member to it and his kingdom's attitude toward it still had a firm hold over his reason, making it a monumental task to accomplish.

No matter how much closer they got, their nations held them firmly apart, in both distance and beliefs.

Could those walls be torn down?

… Should they be torn down?

There was much to consider on both sides, boons and flaws to be recognized and worked on. Maybe the proverbial wall between them concerning that matter should stay a little longer. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to remove a few bricks just enough for both of them to peek through… or maybe they already have and now she wanted to collapse the entire section, though she didn't know why.

"I understand." She merely spoke and focused on what was ahead of her. Ignoring the crew and Garen's mental fidgeting, she felt her way through the magical fog, the blinding fumes doing her no harm. In the midst of it all, she finally felt something in her fingers, slowly stretching out to her mind.

"Port turn!" She called out. Opal nodded to Kole, who steered the ship left. They barely avoided the concealed rocks.

"How in the Bearded Lady's bowels does she know where we're going and we don't?" Kole asked no one in particular.

"Steady as she sails, Kole. We'll worry about that later… if we get out of here." Opal assuaged him.

"Starboard turn! Five meters ahead!" Irelia called out, Kole now following her orders. The fog got denser all of a sudden, a foul smell lingering upon the slowly-cooling air.

"That smell… All hands! Battle stations!" Opal called out, remembering the last time she smelt the stench, still unable to forget the eerie ethereal birds of prey clawing at them, the sea serpents gnawing at the ship's hull and the screams of her men as they were clawed to death or eaten alive. Not one more.

"Belay! If you put your guard up, they'll see you as a threat!" Irelia shouted.

"Irelia, I don't think we shou-" Garen started, but was interrupted by distant ghostly screeches, carried on a bone-chilling wind.

"Just do it!" She lowered her arms and crest, allowing the cold breeze to flow through. Even with her light clothing, she didn't feel the cold, whereas Garen and the crew's skins struggled against the gale's bite. The unearthly howls neared, a foreboding bloodlust and rage filling the fog. The waves became restless in an instant, rocking the ship mercilessly. Suddenly, ghostly birds flew by the sails, phasing through them and a few of the crewmen, though doing them no harm. From below, the sea serpents' fins and long scaled bodies were visible above the water, but did not attack the ship.

"They're ignoring us… Wha-" Kole began, but Irelia interrupted.

"They're the denizens of these waters. We're passing through their home. They're simply trying to defend it." Irelia explained. The crew looked among each other, still unsure of whether or not she was crazy-talking. Ionia never could get the best of connections with the other nations, miscommunication being only the first of many problems in that regard.

"Keep your weapons lowered, people! She'll get us through!" Opal ordered. If there was one sure way to connect, though, it was trust in each other. From one person to another, it spread and held…

… For as long as possible.

The birds suddenly converged around the deck, circling with a predatory intent. The sea serpents below brought the entire ship to a sudden halt, grinding their scales and fins against the hull. The chain of trust slowly began unraveling, hands twitching and reaching for weapons.

"Captain…" Kole whispered, knowing the pattern all too well. Opal, unsure of what to do, simply fidgeted, her hand slowly edging towards her blunderbuss. From the bow, Irelia opened her eyes, the feelings of rage and sorrow slightly brushing against her. She turned, now feeling the chill of the wind on her skin as well. Garen was not beside her, something that brought about unease in her stomach, but she kept her control.

"What did you do, Ionian?" Asked one of the crew members.

"Nothing. I simply guided us… Someone's guard is still up… Everyone! Please! Remain calm! They're attracted to your negative emotions! If you feel threatened, they feel threatened as well!" Irelia called out to the crew, looking upwards to ascertain the birds' center point. She weaved through the crew, seeing every single one of them calm, but slowly teetering on defensive. As she pushed through two sailors, she finally located the source of the commotion.

At the center of the deck, Garen stood, looking up with steely eyes and hand on his sword's grip. His back was against the mast, slowly edging towards touching it, as if he was a cornered wolf ready to lunge at his attackers for either glory or death. Beside, some of the crew spotted him before her and were slowly and quietly pleading with him to let go of his sword; they heard her words, but now Garen was the one slowly forgetting them.

Why? Where was this coming from?

She moved past the crowd until she was right in front of him, the knight lowering his eyes for just a second to acknowledge her. The ethereal swarm was slowly converging on him and the serpents held the ship tight. She had to act fast or the entire crew could be in danger.

"Garen, listen to me. You have to calm down. They are spirits of protection, nothing more. They can sense your doubts and ill-intent. There's nothing to fear ahead." She began, slowly lowering her crest and raising her arms to conciliate him as best she could. His eyes were still on the swarm above and around him, his hand slowly tightening around the grip of his sword.

"They don't seem like such, do they? The serpents beneath us halted the ship, leaving us open prey for those… things above us. Is that not threat enough?" He reasoned, slowly drawing his sword from his scabbard. The circling of the protector spirits accelerated, their forms transforming from soothing songbirds into more vicious birds of prey.

"They did that because of you. Don't you see? You feel threatened by something, but they only _react_ to your fear, not cause it… And I don't even need to guess what it is." Irelia needed to draw the issue out right now. She, or anyone else for that matter, may not get another chance to do so.

"Magic isn't evil, Garen. It is simply a force, shaped and stirred by our own emotions. If you understand that, you will never fear it again." She began worming her way through his guard toward his heart, clasped shut by his own and his nation's beliefs.

"It's _because_ it is a force I fear it, Irelia. It's raw power. That much I understand. I don't know if you know this, however, so I will speak it anyway; at a point in our pursuit of it, our power will become its own master. No matter how much you think you can control it, it will abandon and turn on you. And then, if you persist in your stubbornness, it will _not_ hesitate to destroy you." Garen fully drew his sword. The guardian spirits above him slowly blotted out the fog, forming a shell around the ship, gradually unraveling the chain of trust. Irelia noticed the crew began following Garen's example and slowly edge their hands toward their weapons. One simple reason was all it took for them to start fighting.

And somehow, she couldn't find it within herself to blame them.

Deep down, a sad yet accepting part of her knew what Garen spoke was the truth. Whims of fear, hate and sorrow permeated throughout all humans, the desire to do harm bubbling just beneath the surface of all the good they believed they were and did. Magic simply formed itself around them, absorbing and shaping their thoughts and emotions into different expressions of reality; cold vengeful blades emerging from simple family crests, small sparks coalescing into raging fireballs, soothing breezes transforming into slicing winds…

Ionia suffered a brutal awakening, many of its people still thinking they're in some sort of nightmare and acting as such, often to dangerous extremes. It wasn't until the war they discovered humans could do the most harm to themselves and each other, many succumbing to this instinct and enacting it. New scars on top of the old ones, wounds reopened, rage unsmothered, desire undampened… It never stopped and an ending was nowhere in sight. Sometimes she wondered if it was Noxus' fault at all. Ionians were pretty good at causing chaos for themselves and others.

Could she change it all? Could she shoulder an entire continent? And on the less-than-one-percent chance that she succeeded, would she be able to survive the toll it would take?

She had to try. That much she could and would do.

"You're right. As I told you that night in Bilgewater, if I knew how, I would reforge my crest in an instant. Until then, I promised myself that I would use it as least as possible, only when innocents needed defending. Overtime, however, I realized that those I killed were once my own people, Ionians like me, butchered by the blades they once followed to freedom. Looking back, I acted in self-defense, just as you are doing now. I'm… huh… I guess I wasn't any different back then than you are now. Maybe I haven't changed at all. Part of me would still fight to defend myself and that which I love. It's just… _really_ difficult when the thing you love has moments of not loving you back, the next closer than the last." Irelia confessed, hoping to at least get his attention. She succeeded, as Garen looked at her though his grip remained tight.

"But… Garen, what else do I have left? My family is gone… I only have myself and my memories of them. I don't know what else to do but dance for my home and my people. I don't know how to move forward except through my enemies and troubles. What else do we have left but…"

"… but to forge onward?" He looked her in the eyes, filled with understanding of her words. The first step was always the most difficult and on a cracked road such as the one he walked, the obstacles were seemingly endless, the next closer than the last… just as Irelia said. He only needed to follow the road to its end, which was his glorious kingdom, his heart and soul, his pride and protectorate and his only true home. The moment he thought of returning to Demacia, he thought of Irelia and how close she was to Ionia. Only because of him did she suddenly receive one last obstacle to clear. Maybe Illaoi was right. Maybe they stood in each other's way, even if they didn't want to. Especially if they didn't want to…

He halted his thought process, taking a deep breath. All his life, he faced his fears head on. His military trainers and commanders taught him that even if he turned tail and ran, he would eventually get tired and stop, whereas fear was tireless and would hound him endlessly until it reached and bit him in the leg. Once its jaws were around you, it rarely let go… and you had to fight. Moving forward and fighting until you won was the only way to conquer it. If he stumbled or fell, he got up and walked it off. It always worked and he always won, understanding why it was the way it was; fear wasn't an enemy or an obstacle, but a simple warning towards what your weaknesses were. And right now, in this moment of defense, he realized what his weakness truly was.

It was his inability to open himself to understanding and acceptance, not just to magic but to change as well.

Both of those required one to become vulnerable, something humans were instinctively against. Only fools didn't fear death, as far as humanity was concerned. It was the one fear that stayed with you until the end; no matter how much you lost, it always found something else to infect inside your soul. And now, that fear was gripping everyone onboard the ship… all because he couldn't find it within himself to open up to understanding magic. Maybe he would never truly be…

But right now, he had to try. Lives depended on it and he knew the value of a life all too well.

He lowered his sword into the ground and loosened his grip, closing his eyes and taking another deep breath. The whirling sounds, chilling wind and still waves were forming a plethora of unease all around him, but he kept calm, allowing them to wash over him. The one sensation he felt was the warm skin on top of his hands. Garen opened his eyes, meeting Irelia's halfway.

If anyone was capable of keeping promises in this world, it was her.

Seeing the Demacian calm his nerves, the crew looked among themselves and then to their captain, who nodded. They lowered their guard once more, though some remained a bit fidgety. The guardian spirits above suddenly began circling faster, converging atop the ship and blotting out the fog above them. The serpents beneath them, scales shining in the glow of the spirits, slowly loosened the ship from their hold, retreating into the water. As the last one left, the ethereal birds dove downward with piercing shrieks, startling the crew and Opal. Garen ignored them, however, focusing entirely on Irelia and his nerves. Though they didn't draw their weapons, everyone except the travellers steeled themselves for the descending swarm. As they reached halfway to the masts, however, the ghostly swarm turned upward and flew straight into the sails, propelling the ship forward violently, knocking the many on their backsides, Opal and Kole almost tearing the rudder off by holding on for balance. The winds howled all around them, the chill now slowly turning into a warm sensation and the horrible smell slowly clearing while the ship rushed past the fog at frightening speed. Throughout the ordeal, Irelia held Garen's steady hands, feeling a strange sense of hope though for what or why she didn't know. Garen on the other hand continued breathing, eyes still closed out of serenity even as he was surrounded by chaos.

It mattered not what magic was capable of. It mattered not what Demacia or Ionia thought of it.

All that mattered was this moment.

The ship flew to a halt, the crewmen once again landing on their behinds, irritated from being knocked around. Opal just barely didn't fly off the deck, held back by Kole who fully tore one half of the rudder off its hinges. Garen held his balance perfectly, helped by his sword being firmly planted into the wood. He noticed the touch on his hands had gone, replaced by a warm breeze that passed through him and the ship. He opened his eyes…

Beautiful orange hues, coloring both sky and sea, radiating outward from the sun above the lands on the horizon… Strange and colorful corals and rocks dotting their path, the even stranger fish swimming beneath the clear waters through the sparkling yellow waves, their motions almost those of a brush making expert strokes on a canvas… Magnificent and graceful birds flew past them toward the horizon, their wings and tails fluttering the horizon and its colors to life… It all paled to the sight that revealed itself before them…

Colorful shores, a mosaic of rocks, trees, sand, corals and plants standing before their eyes in all its glory and splendor. Behind them, endless mountains stretched to the heavens and enveloped the land, each unique in its colors and flora. Strange coastal animals, part crustaceans and part aquatic dotted the beaches, making patterns in the sand or just lying about. Beneath the ship, the crew spotted the serpents that once threatened them, now slowly swimming beside as if escorting them. The winds carried aromas and freshness unlike any other, filling all of them with energy and reigniting their will and bravery.

Garen had no words, only open eyes and a clear memory. He took it all in, quietly admitting to himself that the sight before him matched that of the highest buttes of Silvermere. He would never say it out loud to anyone, especially Irelia, but Demacia had some serious competition in Ionia regarding the beauty and bounty of the land. And yet somehow, through all the colors, lights and motions, he found a lone woman standing on the bow, her magical crest fully reformed in the symbol of her family, turned to the sight. His eyes spotted two drops of water at her feet, his body instinctively moving closer and his hand edging toward hers. He regained control, however, and held back; sometimes, people needed moments to themselves and this was hers. One day, he too would have this moment, when the white petricite gates of Demacia welcomed him back…

And he would only speak three words, out of a desire so pure that the brightest light and cheeriest laugh had no compare to the happiness it brought. The same words that his travelling companion… his friend on this grand journey now spoke with all her heart and the truest smile she had.

"I am home."

And with the sight before her, the soft whispers of the wind, the lulling of the waves beneath her and the air filling her with strength, Ionia welcomed one of its most beloved daughters back.

"So… where we dockin'?" Kole broke the calm atmosphere with a simple, poorly-timed and rather apt question, as a port was nowhere in sight.

* * *

The Slashing Mermaid finally sailed into a small fishing village with a large enough port, many of the simple fishing boats making way for the larger vessel. As the brow was extended, the villagers were immediately fascinated by the ship and how it managed to pierce through the fog and formed around the ship, the few guards the village had now on alert at the approaching Bilgewatians. Garen sheathed his sword, slowly descending along with the captain down the brow. As they reached the port's wood, they were flanked by two of the strangest looking people Garen had ever seen. The larger guard on the left had a bull's horns growing out of his head, with a cat's tail protruding from his pants. The other was a woman with scaly skin, a large lizard tail, sharp teeth and thin irises. The bull man aimed his spear at Garen while the lizard girl drew her sword on Opal.

"Who are you people? How did you get through the fog?" The bull man asked.

"We are simple merchants from Bilgewater, my good man. Right now, my vessel and crew were commissioned by one of your own to sail here. I assure you, our intentions are not hostile." Opal brushed up on her Ionian and diplomatic skills, both of her hands lowered.

"One of our own? Who?" The lizard girl asked.

"Me."

At the call, the crowd and guards looked to the ship. Many eyes lit up with hope while others murmured in happiness and relief. Irelia walked down the brow, every step closer to them fanning the inner flames of the villagers and the guards. As she reached the bottom, they formed a circle around her, Garen and Opal forgotten behind the crowds who were only glad to see their symbol of freedom returned safe and sound.

"Welcome back, child of Xan."

"We thought you were dead, Irelia!"

"Told ya she'd come back to us! Noxus can't finish anything they start! HA!"

All of their cries helped her bring out her inner leader, raising an assuaging hand to all of them.

"I'm… Thank you all. I never thought I'd be even recognized in these parts…" Irelia was left stumped. Usually stories travelled far and wide in Ionia so she had gotten used to hers being popular, but she never thought that she'd receive this much support from so far. The area around Raikkon was rather insular, unprotected fishing boats and larger trawlers being the targets of Noxian raids. At least the Brotherhood had no presence here… that she knew of, anyway.

"Don't be ridiculous, Irelia. If it wasn't for you, I'd never have become a guard. My abilities finally have a use." The lizard girl spoke almost reverently, twirling her tail at the sight of the Blade Dancer.

"I'm glad I could help you in such a small manner. I truly am. But if the Brotherhood of Navori catches wind of you-" She began warning them, but the bull man simply stomped his foot.

"Let them stew in their ignorance. We remember what's truly important. If they have a problem with it, they're welcome to take it up with us personally." At his challenge, the crowd pumped the air in agreement. Although wary of their intent to fight their fellow countrymen, Irelia was proud of their will to stand their ground in the face of injustice and blind zealotry. Though her legends spread, she never actually visited the places it touched. She was glad not all of them were as divided as Navori.

"Well said, but I fear that challenge will be answered sooner or later." Irelia's sense was still grounded. The bull man plowed the dirt beneath him with his hoof.

"Good. I have a few choice words for them." Once again, the crowd agreed with his challenge.

"Good man. But I digress. I am so relieved to have landed on a friendly shore… as I am on a personal quest, one which I acquired while held captive." She moved aside and motioned Garen to join her.

"This is Garen Crownguard. He is a traveler from the distant kingdom of Demacia." She introduced him, letting her fellows take in where he hailed from.

"Looooooooong way from home aren't you, hunk?" The lizard girl commented.

"Hey, isn't Demacia that kingdom of those metal clankers with an overstuffed sense of honor?"

"Nah, I heard it was some sort of white-tree forest paradise riddled with rivers and plants."

"I know what it is! It's that country of magic-haters! Heard about it from a spirit that traveled there once. He described it as 'suffocating' in more ways than one."

The villagers murmured the tales they heard out loud. Irelia just shook her head in amusement at Garen's predicament, now placed on a proverbial podium and forced to answer.

"So which of these tales is true, Crownguard? By the way, do you really guard a crown? What's the point of that? Is the crown really pretty or really valuable? Both, maybe?" The lizard girl was almost incessant in her questioning.

"First off, they're all true to some points. Our knights aren't just 'metal clankers' as you so eloquently put it. They're the finest warriors in the kingdom and the Vanguard, which I lead, mind you, is the best of the best. The ancient magic dampening forests of Demacia have protected us from the dangers of magic throughout the centuries our kingdom has existed, letting us mine its natural rich resources in peace. Our laws have kept the peace for thousands of years, ensuring stability and harmony from the dangers of sorcery and the like. Second and this really goes out only to the lizard woman-"

"Leyli." The lizard woman introduced herself with a bow.

"This goes out only to you, Leyli. Crownguard is an honorific given to a large family that is sworn to protect the rightful king of Demacia. The metaphorical crown that my family and I guard is priceless." Garen finished clearing up the facts. It was up to the Ionians to interpret them however they wanted now.

"So… do you really hate magic?" The bull man asked. That got everyone's attention. Garen's mind was sent into disarray. If he answered truthfully, he would most likely be ostracized by the Ionians. But if he lied, he would be betraying himself, Demacia and everything he fought for. He was way past the point of deflecting such questions and something told him the Ionians would buy it. More importantly, Irelia would dislike it, given that she put a lot of time and effort into making him understand that not all magic is dangerous. He owed too much to her to let her down now.

Even magic deserved true justice.

He didn't know why his thoughts went back to Lux, but he learned a lot that day. Despite her home's attitude toward it, she embraced understanding on both sides of the issue and accepted Demacia for all her boons and flaws, preserving the former while fighting the latter. She had her freedom to do so, but she used every single second of it. It amazed him how mature she had become in such a short time. He wished he'd said that day, but she understood him anyhow.

Despite what she was, he was proud of her.

So why? What was holding him back? What was the last obstacle before he took that uncertain first step on the road to understanding magic?

It was reactionary and he couldn't stop, but he turned to the only person he had right now.

Irelia just smiled back, an encouraging and hopeful gesture.

'No matter what you say, I won't think any less of you.' He wasn't a mind reader, but he got the message. He turned to the eager crowd and gave them his answer.

"I wish I didn't, but I've seen too much not to think so. I have lost family and soldiers under my command to it and those who misuse it. It is the truest expression of chaos and Demacia is a kingdom of peace and order. If magic itself were to somehow settle and become stable, I would be inclined to embrace it but as it is right now, I cannot do so. I know there are people out there willing to do good with it, but the harsh truth is that one misstep will lead to disaster. I cannot allow that to happen… to either themselves or those around them. Maybe in the future these things might happen but until then, we'd rather just be left alone." Garen looked as many of them in the eyes as he could. The silence that came after weighted the air down; a lot of the Ionians were perplexed by his answer, many of them pondering his words. It hit them hard to know that magic was considered dangerous, but even harder to know why that was so. They also felt like they understood a bit about the distant kingdom and why it wanted to be left alone, feeling the latter in particular rather deeply, given the recent war. They thought about it so much that they forgot to respond, only one voice finding its way out of its maker's throat.

"A fair, honest answer." The bull man spoke. Seeing as it described their thoughts perfectly, the crowd agreed.

"Well then, Crownguard. Why are you in Ionia?"

"Well, sir…"

"Gorr." He introduced himself.

"Apt name, I take it?" Garen remarked, earning a snicker from more than one person.

"A joker. Could the rumors of all Demacians having about a dozen sticks up theirarse be untrue?"

"I'm working on removing them. To answer your question, I came here to find a way home. To the west, Noxus has blocked my path home. To the north, the Freljord's eastern coasts are under the control of the Frostguard, a nation-sized cult of religious fanatics. To the south, the jungles of Shurima await me with open jaws. Seeing as I had no other options, I decided to take the long way around. That and she convinced me to do so." Garen answered and pointed to Irelia.

"In other words, I saved his life. On more than one occasion, mind you." Irelia proclaimed proudly.

"And I returned the favor on all of those 'occasions'." Garen brought her down a peg.

"Well, thank you for bringing her back to us." An older woman spoke from the crowd.

"You're quite welcome." Garen said with no hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"At any rate, we must be going. Navori needs me and I need to find a way to bring him home safely. Does anyone from this village know the closest and safest route?" Irelia asked.

"Well, ever since your capture, daughter of Xan, the Noxian occupants have doubled down on patrols. They must've gotten word about your escape, so your northwestern sea route is dangerous." The elder woman replied.

"It's strange, though… they don't seem to be moving much away from the coast. It's almost as if they're scared of something… or preparing a trap." Leyli speculated.

"Your best bet would be through the forests up east. I'd be careful, though. Rumors speak of the Order of Shadows reestablishing the Temple of the Jagged Knife up in the mountains. They could endanger your trip since the pass up north goes through the temple." Another villager chimed in.

"The Order of Shadows?" Garen asked.

"An organization of former ninjas of the Kinkou, which itself was an order dedicated to keeping balance. They still are, just not as prominent. The two are at odds with each other, although the Order of Shadows is rather… extreme in its methods. They're not above capturing, torturing and killing if that's what it takes to preserve their way of life." The elder gave him a quick version of what the Order of Shadows was.

"Aye, that's true. The vastaya that passed through here a few months ago disappeared into those mountains. Haven't heard from her since…" Gorr turned to the northeast.

"What's a vastaya?" Garen asked. The Ionians looked at him sideways, like he just crawled out from under the biggest rock in the world.

"A half-human, half-animal hybrids. Me and Gorr over there."Leyli explained.

"Oh… I see. Apologies, but I've never even heard of such creatures before." Garen admitted his lack of knowledge. If this was only the first of Ionia's surprises, he was uneasy about the rest of them.

"That's ok. We also thought Demacians were a myth. I mean, ignorant, self-righteous metal clankers who can't find their way out of their own arse? No way people like that exist, right?" Once again, people made fun of his kingdom's negative attributes. Other times, he might've genuinely been offended, but now he was just grateful it was nothing more than that.

"Thank you for the criticism. But onto the issue at hand. Who was this vastaya that passed through?" Garen asked.

"A fish girl from the far west, same as you. She was from the area around that huge mountain… What was its name…Y'know, the one the stories say touches the heavens…"

"Targon?" Garen asked, amazed at the thought that someone would cross such a large distance alone willingly.

"Yeah, that's the one. She's a Marai, waterborn vastaya that rarely come to shore. This one, however, said she was on a mission."Leyli answered.

"Did she say what that mission was?" Irelia chimed in, growing curious about the vastaya.

"Only that she was searching for someone titled 'Aspect of the Moon', whatever that means." One of the villagers answered.

"Which route did she take?"

"Through the forest passes to the north. Then she took the offroad to the east, making a beeline for the temple. Who knows, maybe she passed through unscathed."Gorr spoke. Garen looked for confirmation in Irelia, who answered with a nod.

"Then our next course is clear. We go through the forest and toward the temple. Spirit willing, we will find her or what happened to her. No visitor that means Ionia no harm shall be responded to in such a way." Irelia spoke with a firm tone.

"How many days is it from here and where do we turn?" Garen asked for directions.

"Three days by foot. When you follow the road, you'll come across an old, wise oak. He'll reveal the path to you, provided you are kind to him." Leyli gave him the rundown.

"Got it… Hang on, the tree talks?" Garen asked, but Irelia interrupted.

"Worry about that later. Right now, we should say our goodbyes and be on our way. The Marai might not have a lot of time, if she is still alive." She returned his senses. Garen just nodded and turned to Opal.

"This is it, captain. Thank you for getting us here safely."

"Hey, no worries. That's my job. No need to spend so many pleasantries on me. Your way is clear. To that, I shall simply say good luck and farewell." She extended a handshake which Garen gladly took.

"Thank you for returning me home. These villagers will treat you kindly and fairly, I give you my word. If our paths cross again, I will return any favor I can in kind." Irelia bowed in respect.

"I would say there's no need, but I won't pass up a chance to return here again. It seems… rather nice for a vacation spot." Opal returned the gesture.

"As long as we don't get eaten alive along the way." Kole appeared beside her with his dry wit.

" long as that doesn't happen. Farewell, you two." She waved off the two travellers as they moved past the parting crowd, heading out of the village and into the serene forests. They looked on until they disappeared completely into the trees.

"So, captain? What do you think's gonna happen to them?" Kole wondered, scratching his bald head. Despite his job and his focus on it, he still found time to listen to stories and those two had made more than a few together back in Bilgewater.

"Well, if you would've told me a few months back that we'd be transporting two Noxian prisoners who stowed away on our ship, made their name in Bilgewater, killed a Mother Leviathan, befriended the Tidal Trickster, fought off a drowned man and old Two-Coats himself and passed Illaoi's test of spirit, I'd have brought both of them home for free." Opal admitted.

"That impressed, eh?"

"Mark my words, Kole. Those two are something else…" She put her tricorne back on, turning to her First Mate.

"But let's dwell upon the destinies of legends, shall we? Come on, old friend. We got some time to ourselves. Shore leave?" She gave him a light punch.

"Aye, captain. We all deserve a spot of rum after that." Knowing their role was fulfilled, Kole and Opal returned to their crew to tell them their plans for the next job or the next adventure, whichever came first. Ionia welcomed them either way.

* * *

The serene magical forests of Ionia revived Irelia's soul. From within herself, she felt the rhythms and motions of the traditional and ancient dances stir her. Step by step, she began gracefully dancing through the trees, sidestepping patches of grass and flower beds while low-hanging branches moved out of her way. A sun apple tree sought to greet her by dropping one of its fruits into her hand, Irelia intercepting the falling orb perfectly and taking a small bite out of it, part in thanks and part to satisfy her craving for her homeland's bounty. As she swallowed bit by bit, her skin slowly turned darker and darker until she looked like she had a full tan. And with every step, every breath and every bite, she felt Ionia's love, beauty and tranquility.

Ever since her first dancing steps and her grandmother discovering her talent, she had always sensed a deeper connection with the winds and earth of Ionia, moving with the currents of the former while scaling and balancing herself on the latter. Once those were mastered, the fire inside her ignited, her passion taking control of her and giving her the unbreakable will needed to master the learned forms and embrace new ones. When it eventually tired her out, water's grace taught her the necessary control over herself and her stances. All four elements combined forged her into the one of, if not _the_ most skilled dancer in all of Ionia and gave her the abilities needed to push the Noxian invaders out. All in all, she owed a lot to the land that shaped her… and she was willing to give her all.

Trailing right behind her, unheard and unseen, Garen observed his travelling companion and friend. Despite her skill in battle, her true self shone in these moments of peace, a dancer loving her craft and skill. Unlike the time they shared on the beach in Buhru, she fully embraced her own desires this time instead of having them drawn out by a challenge or a request. It all seemed bottled up and almost atrophied, given that it looked like a breath of fresh air for her. He remained quiet, letting her have all the time she could take. It would probably all be taken away soon. The next fight always loomed just around the corner, but no one could fight forever. Sooner or later, it would end and only then did one realize who they were.

He found himself wondering at this moment what the answer to that question was regarding himself. All his life, he has fought, defending Demacia and defeating his foes, alone or alongside his fellow Demacians. Being a soldier was what he did best… and all he knew how to do. Barking out orders and thinking coldly and tactically came as naturally to him as breathing. It was all him and Demacia needed… up until recently. The rebellion hit them hard; he always knew that there were a lot of negative sides to the laws, but Demacia had suffered too long to even begin thinking about changing them. New things always had a hard time taking off by themselves and always needed some sort of push to help them soar. He had always relied on his own strength, knowing that it would not always be so and that others needed it more than him. This way of thinking both gave him the will to go on and sapped him of it; when it was all done and no one needed him, what would become of him? Where would he go? What would he do? Maybe that's what spurred those feelings that day… the day he met Katarina.

She was so much like him, zealous, determined and a fighter. When he fought her for the first time to a standstill, he felt he had finally found some sort of purpose with his entire existence. Each time they fought, the warrior's flame inside him grew greater and greater. When things calmed down, however, he realized that no matter how much he pulled her to the light, she always escaped back to the darkness. It was the reason he was so attracted to her in the first place… and the reason they couldn't be together. No matter what the people of this world thought, some loves truly were impossible. There was just too much pain involved. And yet even now, he couldn't fully let go. He knew it was either Demacia or her and he chose the one he could never turn his back to. Deep down, he was afraid… afraid of realizing that there is nothing for him but to fight until he died. The only thing softening that blow was that he had something worth fighting for. Katarina was a bit more selfish in that regard, although like him, her loyalty lied with her homeland.

Could he have a normal life? Would he ever be worthy of it?

"Garen?"

He snapped his head up, coming face to face with Irelia.

"Yes, my friend?"

Was he worthy of calling her that, this woman who had endured as much as he did yet still hoped she would return to a normal life, who was so much stronger than him in that regard?

"Are you alright? You seem a bit distracted… and distant."

Despite him trying his best to conceal himself, she still noticed him. At least, _he_ thought so; the truth was he was on her mind the whole time, only getting worried because the silence was prolonged.

"I'm fine." He looked aside instinctively.

"No you're not." She put a hand on his shoulder, slowly making him face her.

"Really. I'm okay. There's nothi-"

"Garen, look at me."

No point in running from his fears. Might as well face them… side by side with a friend. He looked her in the eyes again, finding concern and sadness.

"What is happening to you? Back on the ship, you said you trusted me. Why are you turning your face away from me now?" A small incision was prevalent in her voice, slowly widening into a crack at the end. It was as he feared; he was gradually starting to hurt her.

"It's just… too many things at once. I don't even know where to begin." Garen kept his eyes on her this time.

"It's ok. Just… talk to me. Nothing held back, got it?"

"Right… Back in Buhru, Illaoi told us something. She said that we stood in each other's way. I didn't believe that until the incident on the boat." The first obstacle was himself and his own obstinacy.

"No matter how much I try, I cannot seem to overcome my suspicions and fear of magic. Out of the many I have tried, only on two occasions have I been proven wrong about it. It feels like the more I push toward reaching out for, the more it tries to lock me out. The same is true vice versa; no magic I have ever encountered has truly been a benevolent kind. I'm… Well, I'm honestly starting to feel like me and magic aren't meant for each other." He breathed out all his troubles, hoping that every word was heard. Irelia didn't miss a single one, waiting patiently for the troubled knight to continue.

"Recent events have had me more on edge than any other time in my life. The mage rebellion, my closest friend- nay, my _brother_, losing his father, one of Demacia's most dangerous criminals wreaking havoc across my kingdom after being set free, all of these have tested me unlike anything ever before. To set it right, I volunteered to personally lead a charge against Sylas, part out of duty and to bring order to my troubled kingdom but also to… validate myself and my beliefs. I was so sure that Demacia was fine the way it was. Turns out, there were many who thought otherwise, both from inside and out. What else did I have but to fight, to see with my own eyes and hear with my own ears that my home was ailing and needed my sword?" He turned to the east, knowing now that no matter where he looked, he would always find Demacia. The question was what awaited him back there now.

"I will always be a soldier, standing ready to fight for the kingdom that's given me everything. Problem is… I don't know if I can be anything else…" Her eyes widened at that one as her mind connected the pieces of information.

"I… I'm so sorry-"

"Don't. Don't start that. Not here. Not now." He shushed her.

"You deserve this. After everything you've been through, you need a breath of fresh air. While I don't think I can quite manage that in this environment and on our current mission, I won't stand in your way. Sometimes, we just have to let our friends and the things we love do what makes them happy." Garen stood up straight, letting her know that despite the circumstances, he'll pull through.

"Come on. I've stalled us long enough. A person might need our help." He found his legs and continued down the forest, the tiny colorful insects and low branches seemingly pointing the way for him by moving out of it.

"You're more than a soldier." It stopped him. He wanted to turn, but kept fixated on the road ahead, the sun's rays shining through the trees and illuminating it for them.

"The night we shared our first drink, I saw more in you than the armor around your soul. I saw a man who was willing to give his all to a kingdom that would ask so little of him, yet reward him accordingly, even if it was for less than ideal reasons. I heard the confessions of a warrior who risked and would continue to risk everything to protect his own. And at the bottom of the well of pain, pride, glory and strength inside him I found a man who wanted nothing more than to find peace in a land he helped build and shape… in his own way." She caught up to him, tenderly putting a hand on his back. He didn't turn, but she knew she had his ears.

"Underneath the soldier shell there is a genuine person, with all his loves, hopes, fears, dislikes, flaws and goodness. I know you are capable of seeing that about yourself. And I think… I mean, I'm not one to speculate, but I think that's going to be your last fight… the fight to break out of that shell and become the man your kingdom nurtures and protects and the man your friends and family will love spending the rest of their mortal days with in peace. The peace you will bring them, Garen." She walked up to his face, finding his lightened expression almost soothing. Maybe it was the tranquil forest around them, but it had an effect on his features.

"You'll find your balance. I know it. Now come on. No more moping around… ever again." With her expression somewhere between stern and compassionate, Irelia took him by the arm and led him down the road. Garen got a strange feeling that the journey would be quite short, but very enjoyable. Having no qualms, he let her guide him, seeing no reason not to. They had been trekking for three days with only light four-hour naps at intervals, courtesy of Garen's military training. By the time the daylight had gone into its descent, they had reached a crossroad with a large old oak in the center.

"This must the place. If what that lizard woman spoke was correct, the oak should show us the way. How does a tree show anything, by the way?" He asked Irelia, slowly edging closer to the old oak, its brown rich bark gleaming in the sunset while its leaves were colored with fiery orange and yellow, a sign of autumn. Has he really been away from Demacia for that long?

"**By reciting you a tale, traveller, provided you choose to stay.**" A deep voice rang out from the tree, putting Garen on guard. Irelia, however, was unfazed.

"Greetings, humble oak spirit. My name is Irelia Xan, last daughter of house Xan and Ionia's sworn defender. This is Garen Crownguard, a traveller from distant Demacia. We respectfully ask for your aid." She bowed.

"**Though my warm jests were a means to greet, I feel this one's soul is still covered in sleet.**" The bark of the oak contorted into a face. Garen's guard was completely up yet again, part of him wanting to drop it but unable to overcome his suspicions.

"Wha- What are you?" Garen asked.

"**Though a spirit I remain, bound yet free, I am but a humble poet tree.**" The oak replied.

"What? What are you… Oh… Poet tree. I get it." Though he was on full defense, he was still able to get the pun.

"**This one is but a frightened little bird, yet bold enough to comprehend the simplest plays on words. But long enough have I held thee, pray tell what is it you seek of me?**" The oak's branches lowered as if bowing in return.

"We seek the offroad leading to the Temple of the Jagged Knife, wise one. We request passage so that we may discover the fate of a fellow traveler that passed through here." Irelia told him their intent. The oak looked to her, finding no hesitation and only love and understanding for his kind. A fierce yet gentle woman.

"**And what does this one seek in this land? Magic and knowledge he does not understand.**" The oak questioned Garen.

"I seek a way home, old one. Do you know of such a thing?"

"**Many a way lead to home, but the true road there must be walked alone.**" The oak posed a riddle.

"What do you mean?"

"**You will find the answer only with time, but for now enough have I rhymed.**" The tree's roots suddenly grew out, casting aside a large set of brushes and leaves, revealing a cracked stony road ascending up the mist-covered mountain.

"**Here is the road you seek, though one must not walk it if they are meek. Many dangers ahead await and one's eyes and ears must see and hear straight.**" The oak made one last bow with its branches.

"Thank you, old one. We will disturb you no longer." Irelia bowed in return, motioning Garen to do the same. As they raised their heads, the face on the tree was gone and once again it looked like a normal piece of wood.

"Do all trees in this forest talk?" Garen asked, still trying to grasp the situation he just experienced. Irelia couldn't resist laughing at that one.

"If just one puts you on edge, then I'd only answer that question truthfully just to see your reaction. But unfortunately, we have no time for laughs. Come on. Sun's almost down." Irelia was already running down the road, the uncertain and confused Demacian knight following closely behind, the trees and strange animals respectfully staying out of their way. Unnerving and curious, at least for Garen. He had much to overcome, it seemed and now, a new riddle to solve as well if he ever wanted to find a way home. Ionia's ways were strange and he would need all the help he could get if he were to decipher them.

* * *

The night was growing chilly when the moon fell upon the Temple of the Jagged Knife, an ancient and weathered stronghold. Legends spoke it was one of the last bastions against an ancient enemy of Ionia, but that was neither here nor there. All the Order of Shadows knew was that it was very defensible and very strategic to their plans. The patrols around the temple were thorough, letting no sound or sight slip by. Their biggest surprise came recently, however, when a lone vastaya walked up to them… or rather, floated up to them and asked in the most polite way where could she find the Aspect of the Moon. The vastayan rebellion had left many of them suspicious so they couldn't chance it; they captured and left her in the dungeon. She was… strangely compliant, though she made many sardonic remarks doing it. The fort's current commander, a personal assign by the leader of the Order, made sure to double the guard on her. And so, the lone Marai now languished in her cell, bored out of her mind yet worried about her quest. They confiscated her staff, the catalyst for her powers and her best chance of escaping, shelving that plan on the top.

'Oh by the tides, why? Why did I have to act all goody two-fins with these bozos?'

The lone Marai thought to herself on her current predicament; though she was here on a peaceful mission, Ionia was less than peaceful. The magical fog and forests were easy enough, but people were unpredictable, especially in a land this chaotic. It was worth it, though. Her mission was too important. She floated over to the bars of her cell, a cold yet relatively clean and overgrown metal box. They were at least decent with their prisoners… when they wanted to be. Pulling on the bars to inspect their strength, she found no comfort in the strong metal preventing her from escaping. A small blue quinlon was placed on the ceiling, preventing her from using her magic. All in all, she had no way out and no company from her captors… at least until the doors on the other end of the hall opened. Before her cell now stood three ninjas; two males and one female. She sized them up; one of the males had a large kama strapped to his hilt and by the wiriness of his arms, he was proficient in using it. The other smaller man wore some sort of strange device on his back; it looked like a bow strapped to a large metal tube, loaded with sharpened long bolts. The woman was armed only with two diamond-shaped knives, something she understood were called kunai in Ionia. What unnerved the Marai most were their eyes, the rest of their faces hidden behind dark masks. They were hardened killers and would not hesitate to end her life should she provoke them.

"Uhm… hi again. So, the last bunch I talked to was uhm, less than welcoming. I'm hoping you guys might-"

"Silence."

"Guess not…" At least she tried.

"Where did you come from, vastaya? Which clan are you from? Where is your village?" The woman asked, her hands twitching on her kunai.

"Village? No, I'm from a city. A grand underwater city just beneath the shores of Targon. I have traveled a long way seeking the Aspect of the Moon, the only individual in this world who can create a moonstone. Do you know where I can find her?" The Marai asked.

"We ask the questions, freak." The short man said, a small disdain in his voice.

"Well… Rather uncalled for…" She didn't quite like his attitude.

"What kind of vastaya are you? Shimon? Lhotlan? Tell us. Now." The man in the middle was rather authoritative.

"None. I'm a Marai, a waterborne clan. Look, if you'd just let me explain-"

"Silence."

"You know what? No. You be silent. I've endured far too much on my trip to have some giant angry idiot hold me prisoner and keep me quiet. Either you tell me where the Aspect of the Moon is, give me clues to find her, let me know of rumors regarding her… or SOD OFF!" She banged the bars on her cage as a farewell and turned away from her captors, fuming in a corner under the glow of the moon, its white light not doing anything to soothe her despite trying.

"I'll make this simple, 'Marai.' You either answer our questions or we turn you into vastaya sushi." The brute was unnervingly calm, but the Marai wasn't even bothered to care anymore, her only response being a rude hand gesture she learned while passing through Bilgewater. It worked, seeing as how the woman took out her kunai rather forcefully, held back only by the large man, who was now unlocking the door to her cell. The Marai steeled herself for a beating, knowing from the way they forcefully dragged her to the cell even though she offered to surrender that they would be even less gentle. She would not submit, though. She had come too far, indeed.

Before they could even approach her, however, a small kunai zipped past them, embedding itself beside the Marai's head, making her recoil on instinct. The other three went on guard, searching for the assailant. The short man took out his bow device but before he could load it, another kunai whooshed past, landing on the other side of the Marai's head, as if pincering her in. As the three ninjas whirled around looking for the attacker, a small black ball rolled to their feet out of the shadows. As the woman spotted it, the ball exploded into a smoke cloud, dimming everyone's vision and almost choking them. All four were on alert now and trying to see through the smoke. The Marai was the first to spot the figure, a silhouette moving in the darkness toward her. As she raised her hands, prepping what little magic she had left, the figure moved in blindingly fast and grabbed them, revealing itself as a young woman with long black hair tied in a ponytail, green eyes and a green mask across her mouth.

"Relax. I'm here to help." She whispered to the vastaya, confusing her greatly.

"It's her! Fan out and find her! If Zed finds out she impeded us again, he'll have our heads! Move! MOVE!" The large man took out his kama and threw it out toward the position of the Marai, her head barely moved out of the way by her 'savior'.

"Come on, focus up. I said I'm here to help you, not save you. I got my own thing to do here." The girl took out her own kama and a set of kunai to use.

"When I give the signal, duck." She crouched in a combat stance, observing her adversaries and patiently waiting until they were at each other's backs.

"Wait. Who are-"

"Now." The Marai followed her command for some reason, lying on the floor like a fish out of water. The girl simply threw two kunai with two iron strings attached to them to the front of the cell. In the confusion, both the Marai and the ninjas saw her plan, the latter three a little too late; the string was also attached to the previously thrown kunai, the wire perfectly concealed in the smoke and darkness. As the thrown kunai hit the wall, the force pulled the wire toward the three ninjas, scooping them up and nailing them to the wall.

"Come on." The girl grabbed the vastaya and ran out of the chamber and through the darkly lit hallways of the temple, the Marai floating behind. Through the halls, the Marai observed the carvings on the walls, many of which depicted humans battling some sort of larger humans descending from the stars. Space giants, maybe? She didn't think such creatures existed but on this world, anything was possible… which reminded her of a very important current matter.

"Wait, hold up." She pulled the girl, who stopped and turned impatiently.

"What is it? We don't have a lot of time. That string won't hold them forever."

"Who are you? I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I know better than to trust people helping me out of kindness… although there are exceptions." The Marai asked for the girl's motives.

"I'm not. I needed a distraction and since you need a way out-"

"And my staff back."

"Oh for the love of… Fine, and your staff back, I figure we can help each other. Afterwards, I promise you won't see me again." The girl twirled her kama irritably.

"Deal." She extended her hand, the girl staring at it warily but accepting it.

"My name is Nami."

"Akali. Now come on, let's move. I have a pretty good idea of where your staff is."

The girls introduced themselves and continued down a large stone hallway, replete with more imagery though this time it was of strange shadowy creatures battling humans. In the center stood a human reaching out to a shadowy box, slowly embracing its power.

"Wow… lots of history in these walls." Nami commented.

"Lot of pain, too." Akali ignored the paintings, knowing exactly what they meant and who the sides were. Ancient history as far as she was concerned. They came upon a set of sliding doors, a dim yellow light emanating from them along with a strange light blue glow.

"It's here. Wait… how did you know where it was?" Nami asked, eager to get her staff back.

"I passed it by on my way to you."

"Well, why didn't you take it and bring it to me first, then?" Nami asked, genuinely perplexed.

"Because you weren't that high on my priority list. No offense."

"None taken…" The Marai just sighed, getting used to people just doing their own thing and rolling with it. She and Akali carefully pushed the doors open, slipping in quietly. The whole room was some sort of storage space, artifacts, weapons, armor, scrolls, statues and many other doodads scattered about in an orderly fashion. In the center to the far wall, Nami spotted her staff, a beautifully carved woodpiece with a circular wave adorning the head. Akali meanwhile searched a desk she found, carefully skipping through notes and letters. Nothing in here but patrol routes and battle assignments… until a piece of paper caught her eye. She pulled it out from under the pile of notes, eyeing the piece carefully.

It was a weapon schematic, something she had never seen before.

Only one city had the capacities to forge it. Her next course was clear.

"Hey!" She was so engrossed with the plans she failed to sense the acolyte entering. Before he could run, Akali threw a kunai at his throat with blinding speed, ending his mortal life in an instant. Unfortunately, others soon followed, summoned by the callout. A large ninja wielding a katana charged her, the other two preparing their crossbows and shuriken. Before the two could fire and fling their weapons, a bubble of water flew at them, encasing them in the air before popping and flooring them with a splash. Before the large ninja could react, a blast of water headed for his face, blinding and distracting him long enough for Akali to slash him across the throat with a single kama swipe. Akali looked to Nami, who smiled in welcome, cut short by the angry screams from the hallway.

It was gonna be a long night.

* * *

Even from the darkening forests and misty miasmas, Garen and Irelia could see the temple stretching out to the moonlit heavens. The ominous blackwood doors were unwelcoming of those who didn't embrace the shadows, the serrated knife adorning them both a warning and a sign of what was behind them. The few patrols that were scattered around the towers stood watch, their crossbows at the ready and their eyes open. Garen scanned the defenses, his tactical mind kicking in; the outer walls were unclimbable and the front gate was too fortified. The towers covered each other's blind spots perfectly. All in all, the temple was impregnable from the outside. He observed the guard routes; the Order was well-trained as each guard was well-equipped with various tools and weapons and had a perfect vision of their surroundings, not letting their watch down at all times. Getting in would be a monumental task. They needed another way in, preferably something lightly guarded.

"So? What do you think?" Irelia whispered to him, seeing him observe the defenses thoroughly. Although she was a soldier and knew what he was thinking, he had the upper hand when it came to experience.

"It's too well-defended and we can't slip in unnoticed. Our best bet would be to find an unmarked entrance, something like a cave or a grotto leading up the castle. Should we find one, our best course of action is quick and quiet, neutralize all resistance along the way, find the vastaya and get out through the same route. All other exits will be blocked and we can't risk an alarm sounding off." He laid out his quick plan, impressing Irelia with his military genius.

"Right. Gonna have to teach me that sometime, ok?" She insisted. Garen just smiled.

"Whatever it takes to get to the life you want and deserve."

"Thanks. Let's go, then."

"Right behind you."

They searched the surrounding rocks for a way in, finally finding a small opening on the northern side of the temple. Four guards were placed on the entrance, all covering the ways in.

"Quick and quiet." Garen repeated. Irelia snuck up about ten meters to them as that's how far the trees allowed. Whistling a signal, she got the attention of the guards, who stood at the ready, motioning one of them to check out the noise. The moment they turned, Garen slithered expertly behind them, grabbing one from behind and stealthily incapacitating him. Before the other turned, he rushed across, grabbing her mouth with one hand and twisting her neck with the other. The other two guards spotted him, but it was too late as two blades flew through the darkness and slit their throats, Irelia lowering one to the ground with them while catching the other one as not make any noise. They dragged the bodies out of sight and Garen grabbed the incapacitated guard; they needed someone to interrogate.

They entered the cave, moving through the small opening into a beautiful, teal-lighted mineral pool replete with magical energy. Strange underground fauna grew around the pool with even stranger insects floating around it. Garen laid the guard down near the water while Irelia made sure they weren't followed. He then got to work, slapping the poor sod awake.

"Wha- what the…" The boy awoke and was met with a giant sword to his throat.

"Listen to me very carefully. You don't know me and I sure as hell don't care to know you. The choices you have made have evidently led you here. I'm going to make this as clear as possible, given that this is your turning point. You get one chance and question; answer honestly and you live. Don't and you die. Now… where's the vastaya?" Garen laid out his terms in a chillingly low voice in the light of the pool, turning his visage menacing and imposing, something that made Irelia's hairs stand on edge. Has he done this before? Was this a soldier's life? The poor man beneath him, now disarmed and terrified, whimpered a little.

"Th-the top of the northeastern section, second floor. Her cell's at the end of the hallway." The boy, no more than twenty years old, spilled his guts out, his bowels dangerously close to following. Garen got up and pulled the boy up rather forcefully.

"Leave and never return." He shoved him out of the cave, the boy running towards the woods.

"How did you know he wouldn't call for help?" Irelia asked.

"His eyes. He didn't want to be here, Irelia. He didn't want this life and he sure wasn't ready for it. I gave him a choice to start over." Garen explained, hiding the fact that he was ready to cut the boy's head off if he suddenly changed his mind. Quick and quiet. It was just another way of war, even for the unwilling…

"Right. Well, uhm… We'd better move on. The vastaya needs us." Irelia got them back on track, taking his thoughts away from the horrid mind of war.

"Right. A person needs saving." This was just another way of war, as well. The kind he preferred… but often didn't get to choose. They walked quietly through the cave, admiring the colorful mineral formations and firestings, a strange cross between a bee and a firefly.

'What a strange land… and yet so familiar…' Despite it being the land of magic, Ionia wasn't untouched by conflict. It seemed he had a little less to learn about, but a lot more to adapt to. That was shelved for now as they reached the end of the cave and came across hallway walls, a sign that they were inside the temple or rather beneath it. Dodging and sneaking around the guard patrols, the travelers reached the temple's courtyard; ancient stones adorned the center, the bell strings on them marking some ancient power, unknown to outsiders but reveled by the Order. The lanterns around the temple were lit in the deepest shade of crimson, illuminating the area in a blood-red glow. These were the training grounds of the Order as a batch of recruits were practicing combat moves, supervised by five elites. The area was even more heavily guarded than the outside, making sneaking significantly harder.

"Great. Now what?" Irelia asked, clearly not seeing an opening.

"Hate to say it, but this is where we rely on them making a mistake or creating an opening for us. Now, we observe and hope to-" Garen began, but a shattering noise interrupted his whispers. A scream was heard as a body dropped to one of the many roofs, alerting the entire courtyard and the guard patrols.

"What the hell was that?!" Irelia whispered.

"Don't know, but it's clearing a way for us." Garen pointed to the scurrying ninjas and trainees rushing to the commotion.

"This might be our only chance. Once they clear out, we search for the vastaya. Ready?" Garen prepared himself, but Irelia stopped him.

"Wait, Garen. What if the vastaya is the one causing the commotion?" She posed a valid point. They were in the dark and taking a look was a high risk, but her logic was sound as there was little reason that they knew of for it not to be the vastaya. Taking a breath, Garen just nodded to her. After the courtyard was relatively clear, they snuck by the few guards left and followed the sounds of battle.

* * *

"Why!" A blast of water.

"Are you people!" Another blast of water.

"So damn determined to kill us?!" Nami unleashed a massive torrent of water that bounced between her assailants, Akali expertly taking out three of them with a precise throw of her kunai.

"What did we ever do to you?!" Nami kept venting as she threw out a large bubble of water, trapping a grouped up squad and floating them into the air, making them easy targets for Akali's kunai.

"Trust me, Nami. You don't wanna find out." Akali ducked beneath the swing of a katana, countering with her kama as she sliced through the ninja's armor, spilling his blood and laying him out. No matter how many she killed, they just kept on coming. They were boxed in inside the room where Nami's staff was kept as they were unfortunately discovered. The only way out was through their numbers… which kept on growing. At this rate, she feared they would be overwhelmed.

"Nami, I don't think we're getting out of this." Akali was not one to sugarcoat it.

"Oh, yes we ARE!" Nami gathered all her energy into the staff.

"Akali, get behind me!" As she screamed, Akali dashed past her last victim and landed behind the Marai as she coalesced a massive torrent of water on the tip of her staff. With a heave, she flung the torrent outward, letting out a giant wave that washed the hallway clean, pushing the ninjas aside as well as everything else in the way.

"Holy hell…" Akali couldn't help but be impressed. It was cut short, however, as reinforcements soon showed up from the courtyard.

"Ah, come on… that was everything I had…" Nami sounded exhausted, but still mustered up as much strength as she could. Akali had to hand it to the girl; despite being tired out, she still wouldn't give up. She admired that about her, as it reminded her of someone… someone she followed in battle… someone she wasn't there for and couldn't save…

No time for that now. It was them against a whole hallway of bloodthirsty, vengeful acolytes. As they swarmed and surrounded the room, all of their exits were now blocked.

"Either we're going down or they are." Nami stood ready.

"Oh, I'll take **all** of them with me if I have to." Akali's will ignited as she prepared to fight to her last breath. The acolytes were closing in now, their black robes flooding the room and blending in with the darkness, making it seem like a wave of shadow closing in around them. No way out… but to fight to the end… At least she wasn't alone-

"**DEMACIA!**"

A thundering battlecry broke the darkness, startling everyone as the acolytes' backlines were cut down by a whirlwind of sharkbone, blood, guts, armor and weapon pieces flying everywhere. Neither Akali nor Nami had time to think as the destructive force closed the distance between until it cut through the ranks of the ninjas in front of them, revealing itself to be a large, chiseled and grim man, now standing between them and a whole battalion of Order warriors.

"Who the hell…" Akali was stumped, but was snapped out of by another battlecry.

"**IONIA STILL STANDS!**" That voice… it couldn't be…

A swarm of blades shot through the shadow acolytes, piercing them and splitting into dozens of smaller blades. A large steel silhouette passed through the battalion, mowing them down like a typhoon cleaving through an island forest. When it was over, the few survivors of the storms of sword and steel rushed out of the hallway with a terrifying tale to tell. The bloodied blades retracted, the woman wielding them putting Nami in awe just as much as the man, while Akali's breath was stuck in her throat.

"Don't worry, vastaya. We're here to… rescue…" Irelia turned to assure her self-appointed charge until she noticed the girl next to her. Her eyes lit up all of a sudden.

"A-Akali?!"

"Irelia?"

Despite their differences, they had nothing but respect for each other.

"Huh… You're still alive, you dumb bitch?" Even with Akali's attitude.

"Why, you looking to replace me?"

"Not on your life."

"Good one." Despite the sardonic exchange, they smiled at each other, Akali removing the mask to better show her relief, something she only did for people she considered friends.

"… It's good to see you."

"Good to see you, too." Irelia moved in for a hug, but Akali raised her hands.

"Ah ah! No. No hugs."

"Oh, fine."

As much as she appreciated the reunion, they had bigger problems at hand… and an introduction to make.

"Who's the walking thunder?" Akali asked.

"Garen, this is Akali, a former member of the Kinkou and one of Ionia's most stalwart defenders. Akali, meet Garen Crownguard, leader of Demacia's Dauntless Vanguard and one of her greatest and bravest warriors." Irelia introduced them to each other.

"Pleasure to meet you, Akali." Garen bowed.

"Likewise, big guy." Akali just nodded, though with no less respect. Their introductions were cut short as more members of the Order we heard down the hallway.

"Yeesh, how many of these guys are there?!" Nami readied her staff, but Irelia grabbed her by the hand.

"Too many. Follow us. Garen and I have a way out of here." They rushed out the window, bursting through the glass and landing on top of one of the courtyard roofs. From there they regained their footing, floating in Nami's case, and rushed back the way they came, shoving the occasional ninja aside until they reached the cave's entrance.

"They won't be far behind. We need to stall them somehow." Garen searched for something big to block the exit with.

"I can help with that!" Nami offered enthusiastically, spotting the magical spring nearby. Drawing power from the water, she gathered another torrent in her staff.

"Get behind me!" She yelled out.

"What-"

"Just do it!" Akali pulled them back behind the Marai. As the torrent reached its climax, Nami pushed it outward with a heave, flooding the hallway and weakening the ceiling just enough to collapse the tunnel behind them.

"Huh… nice job." Garen was impressed, despite being a little bit scared of the young-looking girl's display of magic.

"Thanks. Come on. Won't be much of a rescue if we end up dead." Nami reasoned, the four of them rushing out of the cave and into the forests. Behind them, the Temple of the Jagged Knife rang out its warning bells as search parties were sent out.

"Through here. I know a way out." Akali guided them through the magical forests, using the covers of the friendly tree spirits and forest creatures until they fully evaded the Order. Once they were in the clear, they continued onward until they came across a clear lake, all of them deciding it was a good place to take a breather.

"Whew… wow… Ionia sure is exciting, huh?" Nami summed up both hers and Garen's opinion of their first few days in the First Lands.

"Honestly, I could do without that much excitement." Garen admitted, not finding the whole experience fun.

"Stick around then, big guy. This is only scratching the surface of what Ionia has to offer." Akali sat down, fanning herself with her mask.

"Right… only the surface…" Garen sat down a bit further than the girls, taking in the quiet. He looked around, finding nothing but a peaceful moonlit lake replete with colorful flora and nightly insects, complimented by the stars' canvas. When not reeling in conflict, Ionia had beauty unlike any other on Runeterra. Moments like these seemed few and far between, though.

"Hey." Irelia sat down next to him.

"Hey." He greeted back.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine. Not lying this time."

"I believe you."

"You?"

"Me too. Just… a little bit more than I'm used to when fighting my own people."

"Were they? Your people, I mean?"

Silence.

"… They made their choice."

"And what about you?"

Once again, silence.

"I'm not so sure anymore…"

She sounded tired. Whatever the case, she needed rest and a clear head.

"You need sleep."

"Sleep. Sleep sounds good."

"Irelia, a word?" Akali got up, beckoning the Blade Dancer to the side. Irelia gave Garen one last smile and shoulder squeeze for the night and headed off. Garen was left alone to the tranquility of Ionia's nights…

"Hi there."

At least until a curious Marai got his attention.

* * *

Once they were out of earshot, Akali turned ready to confront Irelia about the circumstance of her return and her curious companion.

"Alright, spill it. How did you survive?"

"On the execution day, I hid a small blade shard under my armor, which I flung toward Garen's executioner. He got out, released me and together, we fought our way out of there. We… got hung up in the Serpent Isles a bit, had a few adventures there, Garen killed a colossal sea monster, I befriended a yordle, we fought a drowned man and a demon, passed a test of the soul and here we are. Weird, huh?" Irelia summed up her adventures with the Might of Demacia.

"Uh huh… and kinda unbelievable." Akali confessed, looking a bit impressed before turning serious.

"Irelia, listen to me. A lot of things have happened since you got captured. The Brotherhood's been on the move, the Order of Shadows has stepped up their game and now we've received reports of Fae'lor… just up and disappearing. Just like that…" She sounded serious and distraught, putting Irelia even more on edge, something she didn't need right now.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're here but… Why is _he_ here?" She looked to Garen, now curiously eyeing Nami up and down, the Marai doing the same to him.

"He has no way back home. Noxus blocked the western sea routes."

"Which explains why they're so jumped up here. You escaped and they prepared a trap for you, not knowing you had other routes you could take."

"Exactly. But… Garen has no way back, so I… I brought him here with me. I was hoping to find some way to take him home by circumventing the blockade."

"And your best bet was to bring a Demacian to Ionia?!"

"Damn it, Akali! I had no choice! He is just one man, even with his strength and skill. I… I couldn't just let him die after all that we did and fought side by side."

It put the discussion on an awkward pause, both women trying to find some words to say to the other.

"… You owe him that much?"

"Everything. Without him, we wouldn't be arguing right now."

"Right. Well, in that case, do what you have to in order to help him." Akali sounded like she still had issues with the decision, but relented for Irelia's sake. She looked to the lake, spotting Garen doing a strange dance by waving his balled-up hands up and down like a monkey climbing a rope while Nami laughed her fins off.

"… Gotta say, though. Your taste in men is weird." Akali made one last remark.

"My taste in men? What do you mean?" Irelia asked as she looked toward the lake, her mind connecting Akali's implication and signaling it on her face with a small blush.

"It's not like that!"

"If you say so…"

"That's a rather unconvinced 'If you say so'."

"I know. By the way, what are you wearing?" Akali inquired about Irelia's strange bodice.

"A pari. Buhru fashion."

"You've… been to Buhru?"

"Yep."

"Hope they didn't suffer you and Crownguard too much."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You know me. I don't sugarcoat things." The rogue assassin just twirled her kama before pulling out the paper blueprints she snagged from the temple.

"What's that?"

"A clue to our next destination. These are weapon blueprints and the nearest city with the capabilities to manufacture it is…" Akali explained, letting Irelia catch on.

"Kashuri." She had heard of their massive magical armories, but she had never been there. A stray thought wondered if she could find some way to repair her crest there, but she put it aside in favor of the problems ahead of her.

"Well then, Akali. Your turn. What's going on? Why did you come to the temple? Does it have something to do with those blueprints?" Irelia asked.

"It didn't until I found them. I was kinda hoping to use the vastaya to cause a distraction for both of us to get what we want, which was freedom for her and some alone time with the fort's commander for me." Akali brandished her kama, showing exactly what her intentions were with the commanding officer.

"But why? Why now? You said the Order was on the rise. As I remember, they had mediocre manpower and arms, not enough to be a serious threat." Irelia recounted reports of the shadowy group of assassins seeking to forcefully militarize her homeland, something that appalled her the first time she heard of it. Full militarization meant they were playing right into Noxus' hands, becoming like them with every life stolen or drafted into service. Ionia deserved to be free, not scared.

"True but… like I said, a lot of things happened in the two months you were gone. Although if I had to hazard a guess, it all started at Jyom Pass…" Akali turned her head upward, looking contemplative, which was a first sight for Irelia.

"Damn it, Shen… Why did you have to repeat your father's mistakes?" She spoke, her voice carrying worry and anger.

"Shen? Who's-"

"It doesn't matter. Right now, I have a new mission and that's to find out what the Order is doing. What about you and him?" She pointed to Garen, who seemed fascinated with Nami's staff as she explained what it did.

"After all I've put him through, the last thing on my mind is to drag him through the mud again… but I know he'd be angry with me if we didn't help." Irelia smiled at Garen enjoying himself with the Marai. Hopefully, he would open up a bit more and maybe then, after all this business was done, she would show him the silver plains before sending him off home…

It hit her just now; he would not be here forever and her homeland needed her just as Demacia needed him.

They would not be together for long.

She had to make every moment count.

"That kind of guy, is he? Well, no point wasting time. Let's go tell them." Akali motioned for her to follow as they joined the Marai and the Demacian.

"Hey guys. Garen here was just telling me about his journey to the Freljord's borders and the barbarian tribes he fought there. Did you know that they have women leaders called Warmothers? Isn't that exciting? I mean yeah, they're probably bloodthirsty, merciless killers and vicious fighters, but come on! Double-armed axe women who can kick frozen butt!" Nami sounded exuberant to learn about the Warmothers of the Freljord.

"Wow… you made friends with her… You made friends with a vastaya…" Irelia sounded both proud and worried, as if a drunken friend had come home describing a fight he won against an upstanding guardsman.

"Well, if I can make friends with a fish yordle, why not a fish woman? Am I right, Nami?" Garen raised his hand enthusiastically.

"Heck yeah!" She hi-fived him. Irelia was still trying to uncross the wires that short-circuited her brain from the sight.

"Huh… Imagine that, Irelia. Irelia? Helloooo?" Akali waved a hand in front of the Blade Dancer's face.

"Garen made friends with a vastaya. Garen, a Demacian, made friends with a magical creature without my help, all on his own. Garen… made friends with the fish woman…" She was stuck on repeat.

"Welp, gonna be a while before she comes back. You two ok? I know it's been a rough first experience for both of you." Akali eased them into it, loading up the tough parts next.

"Nothing we couldn't handle, right, big guy?"

"You know it. Thanks for helping out back there."

"The guy that saved our asses is thanking me… You don't have to be nice for the hell of it, you know." Akali wasn't used to praise, especially a false one.

"You guided us through the forests. We'd have been lost without you." Seems it wasn't false. He was honest, almost dangerously so.

"Well, don't thank me yet, big guy. We're not out of them yet and where we're going, you might not want to come." Akali prepared to fire the issues right into their heads.

"Why? What has happened?"

"A lot of things. The Order of Shadows is building some kind of weapon. Either of you ever seen anything like this?" Akali showed them the blueprints.

"Hey, that looks like a… you know, those things the Bilgewatians had on their ships…" Nami couldn't quite remember how the large exploding pipes were called.

"A cannon… or something similar." Garen recognized the design.

"Cannon?" Akali asked.

"Long-range weapon capable of firing explosive balls. It's also really, really loud." Nami half explained and half complained.

"Long-range? How long?"

"At least two kilometers." Garen replied.

"Damn… Well, crap. Now I _really_ need put a stop to this." Akali looked eastward.

"You're not doing it alone." Irelia returned from her confusion, eager to defend her homeland once again. She turned to Garen, now deep in thought.

"You won't stop me?"

"Stop you? I'll help you. If this Order stands between me and you finding a way back to Demacia, I have a few words to say on the matter." He stood straight, ready and proud to help.

"Glad to have you aboard then, Crownguard." Akali thanked him.

"What about you, Nami? You need anything from us before you head off to your quest?" Akali had a feeling the Marai wouldn't be coming with them.

"Well, I was hoping to go where the rumors are. By the way, have any of you heard of the Aspect of the Moon or anything regarding her?" Nami thought to ask. To her disappointment, the three shook their heads.

"Damn it! Uhm… Maybe the city you're going to will have some information or rumors regarding her whereabouts. I don't suppose you guys have…"

"Room for one more? That we do." Irelia welcomed her to the party.

"Yeahahaha! Go Team… uh… uhm… Us! We're Team Us." Nami failed to think up of a good name for their party.

"Oh come on… Don't lump me in with you idiots." Akali went off into the forests, the three following closely behind.

"Too late. You're now part of Team Ionia & Friends." Irelia grabbed her by the arm, Akali making the disdain of the team name on her face very clear. The deepest part of her was glad to have company, though she would never listen to it or let it out.

"Irelia, I respect you, but you have no talent for naming things. The four of us, driven by our passions and ideals, tied by our adventures across the world and with our might combined, we are **Team Justice**!" Garen called out enthusiastically, chest puffed out and teeth shining for no one to witness.

"CORNY!" The girls yelled in unison.

"Thank you for your unconditional support, girls. It truly means the world…" His sarcasm almost fumed out of his mouth and ears.

"Ugh… where are those things…" Akali's antisocial soul was unable to handle anymore bonding.

"What are we looking for?" Irelia asked.

"There! Oh, finally…" Akali pointed to a set of red-colored bushes.

"Firebrush. Perfect for sleeping near." Akali stretched out and yawned, eager to fall asleep after the day she had.

"Warm and soothing… I used to sleep out a lot next to these when I was a child…" Irelia's fond childhood memories returned as she laid down next a patch, feeling the warmth wash over her without heating up her body over the limit.

"Nah, I think I'll sleep in my own way. I kinda like the night's chilly air." Nami curled up into a snakelike coil, her staff embedding itself magically into the ground upright.

Garen, on the other hand, hesitated a bit before lying down next to a patch, the warm sensations still unable to be fully absorbed by his defensive body. Just as he struggled to relax, he felt a hand on his own; Irelia predicted this would happen and got his attention.

"Just relax. I'm here… I'm not leaving…" She reassured him with a gentle squeeze. Garen had little trouble relaxing after that. If he could take this one small step, he could take the next one… and the next one after that…

He wasn't alone. He had someone to help him along the way should he stumble or fall. For the first time spending a night in Ionia, he felt safe.

"Good night, Team Justice."

"No." Came the united reply.

"*sigh* Good night, girls."

"Good night."

And under the countless lights of the stars, surrounded by the soothing and serene forests, replete with the friendliest and most respectful of spirits, hidden away from prying and angry eyes, Ionia watched over the weary travellers.

For soon enough, she would be calling on them for a great reckoning that would not only decide their paths in life, but the very course of Ionia's future.


	9. Ionia - Roads of Fate

**Ionia: Part II – Roads of Fate**

Bright orange hues making pink and yellow waves across the blue sky, honey hornets and dragonflies streaking across the surfaces of puddles, pollinating the rainbow chrysanthemums and autumn tulips with magic, receiving bountiful nectar in thanks and orange leaves covering the saturated soil beneath, nurturing it with their dried stems announced Ionia's seasonal mornings. The vibrant forest fauna, chameleon tigers hunting forest deer, tree stoats climbing the highest tree crowns lithely, silver-horned goats chewing on the sweetest redgrass, rainbow canaries singing songs of life to their loved ones and to the land itself, all of it stirred Ionia's forests to life. From a distant grove, a mighty Forest Herald emerged, the fields of grass and golden orchids blooming underneath his hooves, the sunlight splitting into a rainbow from the spaces between the branches his horns. The trees, their spirits, the animals and all of the land stopped the cycle of life to pay the simplest of respects to the great guardian of nature.

And all of this was only a fraction of Ionia's beauty.

Garen stretched out and yawned, his body filled with energy. He was a morning person due to his training, but never before had he have this much strength to wake up with. Sleeping next to the firebrush did his body wonders. He looked over to his companions, the Marai and Irelia peacefully dreaming under the trees, Irelia snugged up to her firebrush while Nami was curled up adorably beside her staff. The only one missing was Akali, who wasn't far, judging by the fresh shallow footprints leading deeper into the forest. Light steps, no noise, against the wind… She was out scouting. A trained warrior. Garen made a mental note to commend her trainer on doing a good job as he followed the steps to a cliff overlooking a large river valley. And once again, Ionia did not disappoint.

Large turtle-like beasts walked the redgrass-dotted river, farmers and fishermen following closely behind as they harvested the bounty of the land. Even from the distance, Garen's well-adjusted and vigilant eyes could spot the people on top of their shells, who he just now noticed were shaped like houses, at least in the style of Ionian architecture. Above them, the flocks of yellow and green birds, not any species he had seen or heard of, flew across the valley, occasionally diving to snatch a fish or two. The colorful koi were streaking across the waters like the tip of a scaly brush against a crystal canvas. The redgrass was seemingly alive, moving slowly along with the river throughout the valley. Entrancing, beautiful, almost too sacred to look at…

"Enjoying the view?" The rogue assassin asked him, appearing behind him stealthily.

"Can you not do that? I almost cut you in half." Garen's hand went for his sword as soon as he heard her. Maybe she was a bit too well trained.

"You wouldn't be able to reach me before I moved out of the way, big guy."

"Maybe… but with people like you, one cut is all it takes." He sheathed his blade and returned to the view.

"Didn't answer my question, Thunder. You like Ionia so far?"

"It's… something out of a fairy tale for me. The colors, smells, sounds… Now that they're cleared, my senses are rather close to being overwhelmed." Garen admitted. Ever since he arrived, he felt his skin being caressed by something, his nose filled with smells that should not be there, his eyes sharper and clearer, his ears picking up faint noises… At first he chalked it up to Ionia's magically-saturated environment, but over the few days he'd been here, he started to feel there was something more to it than that. It was like something was trying to get his attention, but he couldn't quite pick up on the signals.

"That's just the forest. The trees here have minds of their own, not to mention the spirits that dwell inside them." Akali tried clearing it up for him.

"Wait… all of them? On our way here, we talked to one, but I didn't think _all_ of them were sentient…" Garen couldn't quite believe it. One talking tree was understandable, but an entire forest? Did all of them talk? Were they watching them right now? What about the animals? Were they as sentient as the trees?

He made a mental note not to ask Irelia about such things. Something told him she would set him up for some dastardly prank.

"Yep. All of them. Mind where you take a leak, eh?" Akali snickered. Garen made another mental note, trying to prevent the uncouth and disturbing images from making a stamp on it.

"Thanks for the warning…" It was the only thing he could manage to blurt out.

"You're welcome." Akali gave him a mocking pat on the back and returned to the view, Garen joining her shortly after he got his thoughts in order.

"Take it all in while you can, Thunder. It's… not all as pretty as it seems." Akali turned dour, taking out her weapons to sharpen and clean.

"What? What do you mean? And why do you keep calling me that?" Garen was curious about Ionia's true state and Akali's nickname for him.

"Let's just say underground fighting's been on the rise as well as crime. Don't know if you've heard about them, but a splinter faction of Ionia's resistance called the Brotherhood of Navori has been moving to seclude, militarize and control Ionia and her people. You've already met the Order of Shadows, but if I was to go into detail, they're pretty much similar. Kinda scary when I think about it… all Zed has to do is ask the Brotherhood for help. Or maybe they'd fight each other for control? Eh, I'm babbling. That's just on the surface. Dark magic is on the rise in Ionia. A lot of pain still remains from the war, thunder. People turn to… extreme methods and the groups that try to help and do some good are… less than influential." Akali gave him a short rundown of Ionia's players. It seemed he had a lot in his way… if he didn't keep his head down. Given that his tendencies to run toward the danger rather than away from it often got the better of him, it would be a difficult task to accomplish.

"As for the nickname, you're really loud and tend to scare people. I think it suits you." Akali flashed a teasing smile.

"Thanks, I guess." Garen went with it, as he was wont to do these days. Ionia's people and ways were strange, colorful, varied and all over the place, but he had little problems with it so far. It even seemed inviting in a mystical way, but he held off on that lest he let his guard down a bit too much. As he looked to the valley, he heard more noises behind them, recognizing the lithe footsteps.

"Good morning." Nami greeted them enthusiastically, Irelia following behind her.

"Sleep well, you two?" Akali asked part in niceties and part to ascertain whether they were ready for the long trip ahead. Kashuri was two weeks off from their current position, nine days if they were lucky which tended to _not_ happen to her very often.

"I did. In fact, I don't think I even need to stretch." Irelia yawned, looking to Garen and noticing his relief. A catty smile appeared on her face.

"… But I think I will anyways. Wouldn't want Garen to start lecturing me on proper body health and complain when I get a cramp, would we?"

"From what I gathered yesterday, I don't think he'd make it past the 'Back in Demacia' part." Nami joined her.

"Make sure to do it perfectly, otherwise he'll pop a blood vessel and do the same thing for about twenty times over _just_ to show how it's done properly." Akali got on board as well.

"Why does everyone and their mother love messing with me…" Garen reluctantly accepted his fate of being a target for teases and punch lines.

"Because we like you, silly. Well, me and Irelia do. Not too sure about her, though. I don't think she likes _anyone_, to be honest…" Nami floated beside Garen, eyeing Akali questioningly.

"Hey, I like people. I… exchange words with them, don't I?" Akali put zero effort in her defense.

"Yeah… a real social paragon." Irelia unsheathed her sharp tongue.

"Oh screw you. At least I don't get captured by our most hated enemies doing it and then rely on a total stranger to save me." Akali's attitude slowly stirred.

"For the record, I got ambushed and broke out on my own. Garen was just along for the ride." Irelia flipped her hair almost condescendingly.

"Yeah, I was just passing by the Immortal Bastion, you know, out on a stroll. Imagine my surprise when I saw Irelia surrounded by literally every Noxian in the city. I had time to spare, though, and decided to bail her out. But she definitely did _not_ need me at all, the way she rushed off towards certain doom just to recover her weapon." Garen stretched out his back and shoulders, proud of his deeds of both rescuing her and winning their current bout.

"Keep talking, jackass. We'll see who helps you on your feet the next time you turn gloomy and homesick." Or at least, keeping it even.

"Huh… you really made friends with someone from outside of Ionia. And a Demacian, at that." Akali sounded a bit bewildered. The tales and information she heard about Demacia were less than unscrupulous… or maybe it was because of bias toward their particular laws regarding magic. Ionians were a bit sensitive when it came to that. Maybe Demacia was also sensitive concerning their laws.

"You'd be surprised. He's… not what you'd expect from them." Irelia's tone changed to that of honest praise. She put a finger on her chin in thought, however.

"Actually, he's exactly what you'd expect from them, except he's also more. A lot more."

"A true Demacian example, eh?" Akali finished cleaning her weapons, sheathing them and getting up.

"The best. So, we heading out? We can cut through the valley if we hitch a ride on the ancients, but I'm worried about putting them in danger." Irelia made the suggestion.

"We'll be fine. We got a few days start on the Order and they won't harm the ancients. Too much respect, even for them. It should save us a few days, given their routes take them through the fields rather than the forests. Almost no risk, but I'd say we stay cautious." Akali looked for a way down the cliff, spotting a small trail carved into the mountainside. Irelia took the lead as the party set out towards the rivers of grass.

"They're travellers too, right?" Nami asked.

"Yeah. Why do- Oh, right. Your mission."

"About that, Nami. I've been meaning to ask; why do you seek this person?" Irelia grew curious about the Marai's mission, taking the lead in front of the party down the path.

"The Aspect of the Moon is the only person in the world capable of creating a moonstone, a powerful elucidatory gem that can illuminate the ocean's depths and protect us from the horrors of the dark beyond." Nami explained.

"Horrors of the dark beyond?"

"She means the Voidborn." Garen clarified for Irelia, Nami agreeing with a nod.

"Voidborn? I've never encountered nor heard of such creatures." Irelia was only now first hearing about the ever-hungering invaders from the Void.

"Pray you never will." His tone implied that was all he should and would say on the matter. The mangled and chewed-up bodies of Taric's unit were still haunting him to this day. Nami's face also turned grim, vividly remembering Rasho and his… change, despite it happening nearly a year ago. Irelia and Akali shared a look of curiosity and uncertainty, quietly deciding to drop the matter of the Voidborn.

"Right… Well, what makes you think this person is in Ionia?" Irelia continued her original line of questioning.

"When I first emerged on the shores of Targon, the people there, 'gracious' as they were, told me that the Aspect had fled to Ionia. I believe she is currently in hiding here, though from what I am unsure. Regardless, I must find her and ask for her help. My people are counting on me. I won't fail them." Nami turned hopeful once more, gripping her staff with renewed determination.

"Huh… If you don't mind me asking, Nami… How old are you?" Garen asked.

"In human years? Twenty something. Why?"

"So young, yet so burdened… It's almost unfair…" He looked contemplative. Was the rest of Runeterra really that harsh? Was reality truly this brutal? He knew there would be cases like this, young ones having to eke out survival through fighting, but he never expected it was this prevalent. From Targon to Ionia, every region had its share of it, it seemed. Granted, he had only seen the Serpent Isles and Noxus, their bars on kindness and decency not being set very high, but he never expected being on the road to be this difficult. Just one more thing he had to get used to.

"Maybe it is, but someone had to take on this task. I volunteered, Garen. The previous Tidecaller, the title of the person meant to find and retrieve the moonstone, died before that was accomplished. The other candidate… didn't make the cut." The Marai looked down, contemplative of the choices that led her here. She didn't regret the whole journey, but maybe some things she could've handled better. If it wasn't for Akali and the others, she'd still be in that cell, with a few more bruises and missing scales.

"I simply cannot abandon this task. It means everything to me and the Marai. And now that I'm so close, I am even more resolute to see it through." She gripped her staff and raised her head toward the horizon. Some things were more important than fear and doubt.

"Well, for whatever's worth it, you have our help… and our blessings. Once we reach the travelling farms, we will ask around on your behalf." Irelia skipped over few rocks, twirling gracefully.

"Wow. You sure are in a good mood. I thought Ionians were… a bit pricklier." Nami observed the Blade Dancer, the rumors of the dwellers of the First Lands' insularity sounding more and more unfounded.

"Well, we went through a lot in our past. We're still trying to find a way to move on, but opinions on how we do that are… differing, to put it lightly." Akali explained the long aftermath of the war.

"A lot of us are still unsure of our future path and our place on Runeterra. Unlike Demacia, we don't have any laws or collective rules to keep us together or instill principles in us. We just… try to be as civil as possible with each other." Irelia continued where Akali left off. Ionia was on the brink of change, teetering on an unstable edge in the middle of a massive thunderstorm of war and chaos. From one side, Noxus and their ilk still threatened with another invasion, always looming just outside the horizon. From within, radicals like the Order of Shadows and the Brotherhood wanted to militarize Ionia, thinking that a suit of armor comprised of fear, control and obedience would keep them safe. Those that wanted to help in the right way had little to no influence. The Kinkou suffered a terrible blow and were trying to get back on their feet, unable to do anything of substance about the current situation. Karma's host was doing her best, but the spirit's choices were difficult to interpret or accept, let alone the human's. Those seeking her wisdom were almost always there for personal reasons, not altruistic or patriotic ones. Maybe that was for the best, though. Once the soul was calm, the mind and body were ready to heal or move on.

"What about you?" Garen asked her.

How long has it been since someone asked her that, not expecting a biased answer or one that suited their whims?

Akali and Darha cared, but ultimately followed their own paths, as they should. From the moment she met them, she felt that Ionia would tie them together in the end. She just wasn't sure about the rest.

Maybe it was time she took action. If she was going to move forward, might as well go the path she wanted, for her homeland and for her people.

"No matter what, I'm going to keep fighting for the future I believe in. It's the only thing I'm certain about." No stutter. No hesitation. Maybe he rubbed off of her more than she thought. Not telling him that, though; no need to overinflate his ego.

"It's more than enough." He agreed.

"She still needs to get her head in gear, though. Having the heart to fight is nice, but it won't do much good when you walk into a trap face-first." Akali threw in her two coppers.

"I'm right here, you know."

"Yeah, but like I said, your head isn't."

"It is, but I'm just…Oh, whatever." Irelia had no excuse for her mistakes, only angry admittance.

"Well, I still think she's a perfect example of Ionia's best side." Garen added with a smile.

"Whoa. Don't flash that smile so loosely, Thunder. She might not be able to see very far behind it… or away from it, for that matter." Akali made a grin.

"What? What do you mean?" Garen's skull was rather thick regarding insinuations like these.

"Shut it, broom-hair." Irelia's wasn't, not appreciating what the rogue assassin was doing.

"Or what, knivey? You're gonna dance me to death?" Akali challenged her, grin still plastered on her mouth.

"…You do realize I _literally _can, right?"

"Only when yordles turn grim."

"Is there a rule that says they can't?" Garen grew genuinely curious.

"Well? Answer his question, oh knowing and grey-haired wise-woman Akali." Irelia hijacked Garen's curiosity for her banter.

"Thunder, I know you met her first and like her more than me, but trust me when I say she's not all goody-goody." Irelia she could handle, but Garen and his golden Demacian heart giving her ammo to fire back, not so much.

"But… you said… I was just…"

"Yeah, Garen. Take the assassin's advice. She's clearly an outstanding example of a fine and honest woman."

"Oh, if only your blades and mind were as sharp as your tongue, maybe Noxus wouldn't have trapped your sorry fat carcass."

"And if _you_ decided against being a perpetual smartass rather than a team player, maybe people's lives, mine included, would be way easier."

"Yeah, I'm all for improving people's lives just so they can ruin them again by themselves."

"I sincerely doubt you have the staying power for enabling that, but I'll humor you. It's all people can do for you these days, it seems."

"What a merry band we are…" Nami finally rang out from behind the group, going ignored yet summing up the party as they reached the rivers of grass, stepping into the soothing enchanted waters. From the distance, the turtle-like giants were sitting calmly in the water, chewing the grasses while the people residing in their shells went about their daily lives. For Akali and Irelia, it was a normal everyday occurrence but for Garen and Nami, it was beyond wondrous. As they neared the turtles, they spotted fishermen and farmers on the ground, harvesting the grass and catching fish, many of them seemingly willingly jumping into their hands and nets.

"What a strange sight…" Garen made the same comment for what felt like the hundredth time to him. Throughout the four days he was here, he had seen snake stoats, goat deer, magical elks, hybrid human folk, plants that move, talking trees, leaves that change color depending on the time of day, fruit that warms the body and tan you the more you eat it. Adding giant turtle/human communities on the list, he couldn't help but repeat himself.

"It's normal everyday life, Thunder. Ah, right. I forgot there's no such thing for you soldier types." Akali hopped over a few grass patches, splashing water all around her footfalls, free of her burdens for the moment and her guard slowly lowering.

"What's that supposed to mean?" To her surprise, Irelia was the one who turned to her with a look on her face that warned her not to push it.

"It means he'll die out there fighting… Best way to go, if you ask me. This peace… I don't think it's for his type." Akali held true to her habit of not sugarcoating things. Honesty was the best policy in her eyes.

"You don't know him. Don't assume what he's like. He's more than that." Irelia put the topic to an end with a firm yet humble tone. Akali looked to her and then to Garen, who looked away, not wanting to get involved in another argument between the two, seeing as how he was the starting point of them. From the moment he set foot in Ionia, he knew people wouldn't be so accepting of his values or his presence. He also knew he had to weather it; he had no right to change this land or to even hope to mend wounds he didn't understand. Whatever the case, though, he would not act like a pushover and thus, he set a sort of internal limit for himself.

"What happened between you two…" Akali grew deviously curious.

"Drop it, Akali. We're almost there." Irelia got the party's attention to the giant turtles, now slowly turning their heads to the approaching travellers. The farmers and fishermen picked up on this, looking to the party's direction while preparing their wares and their hospitalities. If one thing was certain about this land, it was that both the suffering _and_ the joy were shared.

"Welcome, fellows. Have you come to join us for today's catch? The fish have offered a great bounty for us." One of the fishermen, a girl no more than fifteen years old greeted them. As she was about to speak, Irelia's belly beat her to it, a low but loud growl expressing her desires very clearly.

"We accept if you'll have us, kind lady." Irelia bowed with a light blush, the others following with carefully contained laughs.

"Plenty for everyone. Come on, then. That stomach doesn't sound very patient." The fisher led them to the base of one of the turtles, which knelt in an almost meditative state. On its bent leg, makeshift scaffolding was constructed, though upon closer inspection, it looked like it was grown from the leg itself. The 'shell dwellers' went up and down the wooden growth, carrying their harvests and catches then descending down for more. Even though he didn't understand what it involved, Garen found the sight rather calming. It was nice to know there were things like these in Ionia as well, people working the land, living and thriving on it, helping each other… Part of him wanted to preserve this place forever, but his mind kicked him in the gut, reminding him it was not for him to do so. He was an outsider, a guest in a friend's home. He had much to learn of their rules, especially regarding his origin.

"My name is Khali, a humble fisher and daughter to the Hyuon family. Where are you all from, if you don't mind me asking?" The girl grew curious, happily guiding them up the wooden pathways leading up to the hollowed-out shell. Even from below they could see and hear the bustle of the dwellers.

"I'm from Navori. The western coast, to be more precise. Nowadays, though, I simply reside in the countryside." Irelia spoke first.

"Navori… your flying crest… By the Spirit… You're her, aren't you? The girl that led Ionia to victory that day?" The young fisher asked.

"I… Yes, I am. I am Irelia Xan." She reluctantly introduced herself.

"The exalted Defiant Blade herself. The honor is too great, milady." The young girl bowed.

"Please, none of that for me. What you're doing for us is more than enough." She tried her hardest to remain humble, a normal person in their eyes.

"Of course, daughter of Xan. We are simply inspired and in awe of your stories. If you don't mind, maybe you could share the tale of the Battle of the Placidium. Many of our folk would love to hear it, if not revel in the fact that it's the Blade Dancer herself recounting it." Khali led them further up the turtle until they stood at a large opening. Carved in the shape of a doorway, many of the turtle dwellers came and went, a lot of them descending down the giant turtle using either ropes, the various wooden growths on its skin or climbing down the wrinkly skin itself. The giants didn't seem to mind, happily eating the moving redgrass and even helping some of the dwellers down. Inside the opening was where Garen and Nami opened their eyes a bit wider.

Dances, songs, feasts, markets, shows and drinking permeated the inside, filling up the hollow shell with life. Colorful people wearing even more colorful robes traded and bartered each other, drank exotic drinks and ate the strangest looking food the two outsiders had ever seen. Children ran around the few present fuzzy little creatures who Garen and Nami recognized as yordles, the magical beings happily letting the younglings live their youth to the fullest by expending their energy chasing each other, playing games and generally be the happiest they can be. It was all arranged in a circle, flowing marvelously and harmoniously with every step, voice, touch, bite and aroma. From the center, a tall stone pillar loomed above everything, a small elderly woman sitting on top of it and observing the flow with squinty and watchful eyes. Dressed in a green garb marking her tribe's emblem as well as that of Ionia, a coiled dragon around a flame, she held a wooden staff with a small magical spark inside the hollowed-out headpiece, a mark of leadership and wisdom among Ionian elders. She spotted the travelers, particularly the Blade Dancer, feeling the burden and power she carried and bestowed upon others. The assassin beside her had an air of loyalty, but whether it was to herself, her friends or her home she couldn't tell. Whatever the case, she was not a patient one. The young vastaya floating behind them carried a burden as great as the Blade Dancer, yet went about it as positively and tenaciously as she could. Her soul was a determined one. Such was an elder's gift and insight that they were able to tell the character of a soul with a simple look.

The man in between them, however, was an enigma. She couldn't sense anything special about him, yet something around him, an aura or a tiny feeling, bade her to look further. No matter how old her knowledge or how peering her eyes, she couldn't find anything about him that stood out. And yet there it was, some sort of light in his soul, just out of sight beneath the obscurity…

The elder opened her eyes wider and tapped her staff once, the contact with the rock echoing throughout the shell, getting everyone's attention and stopping all activity. Elders commanded great respect among Ionian hierarchy and those that looked after their people even more so. With a spring in her step unusual for her age, she descended from the pillar, the crowds making way for her until she was in front of the four travelers. Irelia and Akali made a deep bow, while Nami and Garen mimicked them.

"Welcome, wanderers of our lands. I am elder Mai, advisor to many, caretaker to all and an old bat with too much teeth left to youngins." She introduced herself, an air of both levity and tradition around her.

"Thank you for having us, elder Mai. My name is-"

"I know who you are, fiery dancer. All of Ionia knows you. You honor us, Defiant Blade of Navori, Liberator of Ionia and Last Daughter of Xan." Elder Mai now bowed in return with the same respect that was given to her. The crowds, upon hearing her name and titles, followed in bowing, almost all of them with the exceptions of some who have not heard the stories doing so not out of respect for their elder, but out of respect for the young woman who brought freedom to all the land. The three beside her raised their heads, turning to her in question and finding a confused and staggered girl, unsure what to think of the situation and making them confused as well.

Except for Garen. He knew exactly where Irelia Xan stood, a simple dancer made an icon and a symbol even though she had no intention of being so.

It was a pedestal, one not so easily scaled or balanced. To even reach the top, you'd have to be lifted up by the hands and hopes of many. Once there, balancing oneself was the single hardest task a person would ever get in their life; not only do you have to struggle against those seeking to knock you out of it, but also by those seeking to usurp you from below, the currents of luck and change assaulting you with doubts and uncertainty for the future, the weak structure comprised only of last hopes and desperation and finally, the shaking hands and dimming eyes of those holding the pedestal up.

The pedestal of a leader. That's what aunt Tianna called it when he confided in her about the issue.

After all, he was elevated upon that very same pedestal. He thought he was ready for it, to lead the Vanguard and though it, Demacia herself, into victory against her enemies. He wasn't ready for the tears of the families of his fallen brothers-in-arms, the silent contemplation of the living before and after every battle, the accusations of those not under the protection of the laws, the fear and mistrust of the countryside farmers and villagers and finally, the questioning of the very ideals he and his Vanguard were sworn to uphold and defend. Through the help of his family, the King and the trust he had built with the citizens of the capital and High Silvermere, he managed to maintain balance on the shaky pedestal, firmly planting his feet to supplant the cracking foundations that Demacia's ideals were slowly eroding, instilling hope into the hearts of those that followed him. His center of gravity shifted with every decision made by the ruling families and the Monarchy, every soldier falling because of those orders, every look of despair cast his way begging for hope and every lit soul saved and one step closer to the better life it dreamed of in Demacia. It soon enveloped his life, leaving little time for anything else, so much so that he couldn't tell the difference between his own ideals and those of Demacia's. In time, however, he found out that it suited him just fine. This was the closest he could get to protecting everything he loved. He knew the risks and consequences yet still chose to walk that road.

The road of a leader… It felt lonely at first, until one looked back and saw everything they had accomplished and all those that followed his footsteps. At least, that's what aunt Tianna told him. Back then, he thought it too short a walk. Now, so far away from home, among people he barely knew, he finally realized what she meant. Those that followed him and believed in him, not just Demacia, were always there for him. His soldiers, his family…

Luxanna.

Who knew she'd find her own path so soon in life? She upheld each and every one of Demacia's ideals in her own bright and smiling way. All the more reason he had to make it back alive. He needed to tell her that, not just accept her for who she was.

Sometimes, people needed to hear those words, even if they knew them to be true regardless of them being voiced, a lesson he learned firmly in Bilgewater.

"Irelia."

Among all the bowed heads and three uncertain young women, he spoke, loud and proud, head raised and eyes glinting.

"Her name is Irelia. And she is more than a story to be retold and a legend to be admired. Please don't forget that, elder Mai." He didn't care if he overstepped his bounds or whether or not there were any. It earned a questioning look from Nami, a raised eyebrow from Akali and their hosts' attentions. Among them all, however, a slightly upward curved mouth and relieved look on Irelia's face outshined everything.

"And who are you, proud and protective young man?" Elder Mai turned to him, genuinely curious or at least not seeming to register the outburst, if one could call it that.

"My name is Garen Crownguard. I am a traveler from Demacia." He introduced himself.

"Demacia? We have never heard of this province." Elder Mai's finger joined her chin in contemplation, as did the crowd and their questioning murmurs.

"It's not a province, elder. It's a small kingdom from across the ocean, far into the west. He is… a _long_ way from home." Akali explained. Elder Mai opened her eyes a bit wider after that, her people behind her launching into a full-blown questioning chaos, the things being thrown around as much as the speculation and made-ups. Another tap from the staff silenced them on the spot; her age and wisdom were still capable of calming everyone down or at least, reminding them who's in charge.

"What are you doing here, son of Crownguard? What do you seek in this land?" Mai asked with a tone of suspicion.

"A way home, elder. My tale is… quite the interesting one." Garen answered.

"Let's hear it, then. This way, son of Crownguard. Make way, you chattering louts! Go on!" Though she was a reasonable person, Elder Mai wasn't patient when it came to her people misbehaving, be it young or adult. As the four followed her, Garen and Nami cast their eyes all around them as much as they could, taking in the colors, sounds and smells. Many of the exotic-looking fruits watered Nami's lips while Garen took in the alluring scent of the fish cooking on the great stone oven in the middle of a large open area surrounded by stalls replete with all kinds of food. As they reached their destination, the small circle of sitting cushions surrounding the oven, the elder bade them to sit, a few people serving them fruits, meat and drinks. Irelia immediately clapped her hands in customary thanks and started eating, or rather, attacking her food like a starved wolf. Her three companions reacted in their own way, Garen amused but glad she was eating properly, Nami scared that Irelia will start eyeing her as sushi and Akali suppressing her laugh with her own full mouth.

"Now that your bellies are working, your heads should receive enough fuel to string together the words and energy for your tale." Elder Mai drank her mint tea, looking at Garen in particular.

"I suppose I can, elder. As my companion said before, I am from Demacia, a kingdom in the far west. I am a soldier by trade, if you can call it such. My home, like yours, is facing difficult and volatile times of change and danger. In an attempt to restore peace, I was captured by a dangerous enemy; Noxus." He stopped there, letting the words weigh carefully in the air. The elder and her people took them all in silence, only breaking it when Noxus was mentioned. The unrest was silenced with another tap from Mai's staff, who motioned Garen to continue his tale.

"I was bound for the executioner's block and my head would've likely rolled off of it had it not been for Irelia. We escaped together to the Serpent Isles, where we got hung up because of stowing away and stealing supplies in order to survive. Luckily, the people they belonged to were reasonable. We had… quite the few adventures for the month we were there." He continued, making sure to emphasize Irelia's role in his freedom.

"I see. To be honest, the people feared the worst when news reached us of the daughter of Xan's capture. I knew she would find her way back to us, though. Ionia takes care of her children, even when they have been ripped from her. She still finds a way to reach them." Mai spoke, her faith in her homeland and its Great Spirit prevalent in every word.

"Well, having your family's split crest and friends beside you certainly helps." Irelia added.

"Oh, _now_ she admits I helped her…"

"Quiet, you. At any rate, elder, we are grateful for your hospitality." Irelia said, gulping down the last of her meal, suppressing a small burp.

"Think nothing of it, daughter of Xan. We Ionians must look out for each other, especially in these difficult times. Too many of our own folk succumb to their inner pain these days, hurting each other and themselves in the process. This… duress that Ionia has been under ever since her people's bloodlust has been awakened has been too prolonged by the chaos left by the war. We need to start healing… properly, this time." Elder Mai drank another sip, quietly contemplating exactly _how_ Ionia would go about this and how many wanted salvation.

"We will. I will make sure of that. You have my word." Once again, no hint or hesitation. Irelia was growing bolder and more determined with putting her dreams into words and, hoping soon enough, actions. The Brotherhood and similar other groups would stop at nothing to achieve their goals, which meant she had to similarly stand her ground and defend her ideals. Her mind started to wonder whether or not there was any difference between the Brotherhood and Noxus, but she stopped herself from going any further lest it go into darkened corners.

"We have no doubt you will keep it, daughter of Xan. May the Spirit be with you on your journey."

"Thank you, elder, but I can take care of myself. Others need its blessings more than me."

"That maybe so, but I doubt having a few hands to help you up when you are down hurts." Mai looked to her companions. Irelia lowered her head in thought, considering the fact that she was luckier than most in that regard, especially with Akali and Garen, a rogue assassin and an anti-magic knight respectively.

"But there will be time to retell your tale to all of us later. Now we move on the others. What of you, young and feisty ninja? What brings someone like you to a home as humble as ours?" Mai took another sip and gave Akali a questioning look.

"Can't talk much about that, elder. It might put you all in danger. Let's just say I'm trying to save lives and leave it at that." Akali withheld their self-appointed mission and its details.

"An assassin saving lives? And how many are you willing to take to 'save', eh?"

It was a gut-punch question, especially for an introspective time like this. Even under her mask, Akali's mouth could easily be imagined as open, closing slightly in thought. Irelia and Garen were struck by the question as well; if one life needed to be taken to save more, who drew the line and where? They knew the need to defend themselves and their homeland from its own people would take its toll, but no one told them when. They knew they couldn't save everyone from themselves, as did elder Mai, but it wasn't about the greater good.

It was about lesser evils piling up to become one big mess of broken ideals and false promises.

"I don't know, elder. All I know is… I'll try my hardest to save those that can be saved." Akali answered. A simple and honest answer, but one full of uncertainty and coming from a person trained to take lives. She wondered if Shen let her go on purpose rather than desire, given that despite her best efforts, she was still capable of failure. All those years training and bonding together and she still had no idea what went on in his head. It frustrated her to no end.

"As fair and balanced an answer as we can hope. I expected nothing less from the Eye of Twilight's disciple." Elder Mai took another sip.

"What? You… know who I am?" A surprised assassin was one of the most vulnerable targets and Mai took advantage of that.

"Don't be silly, little Fist of Shadow. I suspected who you were the moment I saw you, but the way you carry yourself through crowds and conversations confirmed it. The Eye of Twilight helped us during an attack and kept my people safe. I bade him stay a few moments, during which he spoke of his order… and of you, his 'best and brightest student'. His words, girl, not mine. He didn't quite say it, but I think he is proud of who you have chosen to be." Mai revealed one of her own secrets. Akali took it all in; Shen was here and despite everything, held her no quarrel, maybe even supported the path she had chosen. He sure didn't seem like it the day she left, though. Sometimes, she wondered if his emotions truly were under perfect control, a fact that was improbable in humans.

"First off, I'm not the Fist of Shadow anymore. Left that title behind with the Kinkou. Second, why was Sh- the Eye of Twilight willing to help you all?" Akali asked, knowing that Shen never did anything without a _very_ good reason.

"He saw us needing help. The inhabitants of the Spirit World have been getting bolder, as I'm sure you know. Many of the once-kindhearted and noble spirits have been… twisted. Transformed into vile creatures that prey upon hapless travellers, they will stop at nothing to harm others. The negativity around the land is still prevalent, corrupting them almost beyond salvation. I fear the Eye of Twilight will have his work cut out for him and the Kinkou… and it will be a rather large piece." Elder Mai informed them of the darkening influences twisting the denizens of the Spirit World.

"And that's only the tip of thorned vine, I'm afraid. The land is… sick. Not from magic, but it is the catalyst to spreading it. There's a dark energy in the air, slithering inside people's minds and infecting the darkest corners. If Ionia's penchant for violence has been 'awoken', as many term it, what does that mean for us? Were we always this bloodthirsty and violent deep down or are we too susceptible to it? This kind of doubt widens the rifts between us as people and as cultures. Those that have turned to darker paths exploit this in many ways: kidnappings, murder, unraveling of traditions, bandit raids, full-scale village attacks, magic rituals for more power, dealings with the once noble and now twisted beings of the Spirit Realm and some even conspiring with Noxus." Mai's words weighted the air down. The people around her hung their heads or raised them up, but all of their faces showed pain, doubt, fear, disgust and anger. Did their once noble and beautiful homeland fall this far or had they always been this chaotic and destructive? Too much of their history had been lost to know for certain and too much had they respected the past as to not explore it.

"Is it really that bad? I mean, sure there a lot of bad eggs out there, but there are far more good ones, going by those I encountered, at least." Nami asked, growing concerned about her mission.

"Oh, trust me, young vastaya. Ionia and all of her people are on the brink. Whether it's our redemption and moving forward, descent into villainy, succumbing to the outside or disappearing completely from history has yet to be decided." Elder Mai finished her tea, gulping her last sip in thought. She, as with all elders, was responsible for Ionia's future generations walking down the right path, but with the aftermath of the war and the recent renewed attacks, many followed their fraying emotions, thinking that they were doing the right thing when they were only looking out for themselves and served their own vengeance and anger. The haze of grief and loss made them unable to tell the difference, leaving it up to the wise and experienced like her to guide them, a task that was getting heavier with each stray soul wondering off into its own darkness, thinking that it's the only light left.

These same thoughts were plaguing Irelia's mind as well. She knew there was too much chaos for her to handle alone, but she never realized that those that once followed her would turn on her the instant she desired peace for them. Were they truly beyond saving… or did she push them too far with her victory? She only did what she thought was right…

No. She was only looking to appease her own anger. And now, when she was a symbol of Ionia's freedom, that same freedom had transformed… into something dark and beyond her control.

'I truly _am_ responsible for my homeland's chaos…'

The logical trail of thought led her to her destination. It showed her the turmoil she had sown by fighting back and how others had to either pick up her pieces or suffer because of her ardor. And yet, she couldn't give up. She had to correct her mistakes, repair what she had broken and set right all she had wronged.

"Whatever Ionia's next course is, one person cannot decide it alone, nor bear the burden of responsibility by themselves." Garen finally sounded of, looking to all of them but subtly speaking to Irelia directly.

"And how do you propose we go about uniting ourselves, son of Crownguard?" A simple question for an old and wise woman.

"For your homeland, elder. It's the only common ground you have left, figuratively and literally. If Ionia doesn't unite under common ideals, it will slowly unravel in the chaos and lack of culture and direction. You cannot simply hope that people will be good and considerate to each other, thinking that berating them and telling stories and quotes of wisdom and peace will be enough to assuage their disarrayed and clouded hearts. You must all reevaluate where you stand… and who stands with you. The rest will come naturally, you'll see. You'd be surprised how much people can accomplish when desiring to create, build and teach others." Garen's eyes trailed off in thought, wandering to the opening and the busy day lived by the turtle's inhabitants, going about their daily lives and trading, relaxing and creating in peace. And once again, his golden heart shone through his smile, small as it was.

"I know nothing brings me more joy than seeing it, even though I have never considered myself worthy of such a thing… Eh, my feelings on the matter are of no concern to this topic. What's important is that united together under stable, enduring and widely-encompassing principles, a nation can prosper into a grand and long-lasting culture capable of enduring all of time's tests. Ionia can become one such nation. I know all of you here are simply trying to survive, but deep down none of you want this. Peace is the noblest aspiration and the most elusive… but I believe Ionia and her people can achieve it. Divided you are weak and exposed, but together you are unstoppable… just like on the day I hear so much about. The day Irelia turned the tide of battle at your most sacred site." At the mention of the Battle of the Placidium, Irelia turned to him, seeing that look in his eyes, the look so many of her people had that very same day.

The look she dreaded from him most of all.

"I believe Irelia embodies those principles best…" Her face contorted to a glimpse of pain and fear; of all people here, he was _not_ the one she wanted to hear those from. She loathed where this was going.

"… ones which they can learn from, but not follow."

That caught her and everyone else by surprise.

"What do you mean, son of Crownguard?"

"Garen, Elder Mai. My name is Garen. I know the custom of family name respect in Ionia as we have a similar one in Demacia, but please. I don't want to feel honored simply for my name. I have yet to recount _my_ deeds but until then, I am just Garen, a simple guest in your home." He began, capturing everyone's full attention.

"And despite her greatness, courage and will, Irelia Xan is still just one woman. She can only do so much before it all starts to unravel. But I think, only based on what I have seen from her in one month, that she is capable of providing that spark that will light the path to Ionia's future to peace and prosperity. But this is not because of her warrior and leadership statuses. It's because of her that Ionia and her people survived, but now it is up to them to live and she has more than shown them. I have seen her dances, simplest twirls and motions from her homeland. She has even learnt several new forms in Buhru, which I'm sure she's eager to show to those who still respect the art. She lives her life, the life she has fought for, by both remembering and moving forward. She protects and fights for the defenseless, her sense of justice is prudent and above all, she knows and understands the value of a life and when to spare it. If those are not worthy ideals for Ionia to go by, elder, then I'm sorry to say your nation isn't worth redeeming itself." Garen boldly stated, his neck stuck out and eyes steeled, a sign that he stood by his words. Everyone's expressions varied at his statement, ranging from confused, offended, irked, surprised, contemplative and even a rare approving one here and there.

Irelia, however, remained straight-faced for the most part, except for the slightly widening eyes and tiny blush on her cheeks. At her core, she was beyond glad he didn't put her on the pedestal, but even happier that he climbed on it himself to help her with her balance. She turned to Akali, who looked at him and then at her, a slightly raised eyebrow and a noticeable smirk beneath her mask.

"It's not like that, huh?"

"Zip it, wiseass."

"Whatever, damsel-in-denial."

"Ugh." Irelia put the lid on the kettle of insults, both women waving each other off without a tiebreaker.

"Well well… It seems our Irelia has found a true friend across the ocean. Who would've thought? I had doubts about your intentions, Garen, but it seems you are quite the companion to have. I am also certain that you will find your way home to your kingdom. Should you prove worthy, Ionia will help you. The land has a will of its own. I know it sounds strange to a foreigner like yourself, but we, her children, have always felt it through everything we do; the food we eat, the songs we sing, the people we meet and talk with, the creations we bring upon our material realm… All of it reflects into Ionia and in turn, she provides even greater gifts in return." Elder Mai poured herself another cup. She looked to her people, those she had sworn to guide and protect. Hearing Garen, a stranger from a land she had never even heard about, saying that people had to rally not behind a common foe but a common ideal brought her a bit of hope for Ionia's uncertain and undecided future. There would inevitably be fighting, however. As the spirit Karma once said and often repeated; 'If you want peace, you must prepare for war.' Only in her sunset years did she finally understand the meaning of that seemingly contradictory quote and only now, in her twilight age, did she endorse it. People didn't need to destroy that which they hated, but find and protect that which they loved. The Demacian understood that and so did Irelia Xan, a dancer who fought for the only thing she had left to love; the homeland which gave her everything. She wanted to bring out the best in others, but she had to learn not all were willing to love her back as much as she loved them. It was up to her to make the most prudent decisions, but at least she wasn't going to do it alone. Looking at the spunky Marai Tidecaller, the sharp yet dedicated assassin and the compassionate and protective Demacian knight, Mai knew just how far Irelia's reach extended. Now all she had to do was be careful not to have her hand cut off. Before she could ask them more questions, the floor suddenly began moving, startling Garen and Nami. From the large opening, the mountains and the countryside were moving, a signal that the giant turtle they were in had stood up and was turning.

"Relax, you two. Our ancients have decided it is time to go. From the looks of things, the sun is nearing its peak. We are underway to the northeastern steppes, stopping at the edge and turning toward the mainland. Where are you all headed?" Elder Mai asked.

"Kashuri, elder. For what, we cannot say." Akali spoke first, signaling the others to keep quiet. Garen and Irelia understood why while Nami took a while to get it; should the Order find and decide to interrogate the travelers, they wouldn't spill a lot of information if they broke.

"Very well, then. We will happily provide you with accommodations…" Elder Mai tapped her staff again, a slow and slurred roar entering from outside and reverberating through the shell.

"… provided this old and 'tired' one doesn't decide to stop for sightseeing or a story to share with other old friends." Mai scoffed and headed out to the opening, the travellers following closely behind. Once at the edge, Mai tapped her staff on the turtle's outer shell, as if knocking on a door. Nothing happened. Displeasure and annoyance visible on her face, Mai tapped twice, this time receiving a faint sound from the turtle who continued to ignore her.

"I swear to all hells, you old dried bastard, I'll string your insides out and feed them to dragon younglings… Apologies, travellers. It seems out esteemed host is being a cranky old fart. I'll try getting him to speed things up. You make yourselves at home." Mai swiped her free hand, making the growths on the turtle's skin sprout out in the form of curved stairs leading all the way up to its neck. Once it was complete, she immediately began climbing upward, muttering profanities under her mouth along the way. Akali, Nami and Irelia just shrugged the whole thing off as elderly disagreements and turned to head back inside, Akali heading for the nearest thing that resembled a bar while Nami started asking around for the Aspect of the Moon and any information involving her. Irelia looked for a private spot but as she found one, she noticed someone still missing. Garen was still on the edge of the turtle, staring out into the horizon.

"Hey, Hero. You good?" She grabbed him by the shoulder. Garen just acknowledged her with a look and went back to the sight; the peaking sun illuminating the colorful vista, revealing the endless moving of the First Lands. Blue lights shimmering in the forests beyond and behind, the long-spanning grass rivers marking their way attracting the mixing fauna around them, the wind almost whispering in his ears, singing sweet songs of peace and tranquility… Demacia's static and soft sights truly were challenged by Ionia and her restless ones. He looked up, seeing Elder Mai perched atop the ancient giant turtle's head, arguing with it in a language he couldn't understand, yet sounding common in his ears. The people that traveled and lived off these lands were almost friends with it and the creatures surrounding them. All of it blended together, painting a beautiful portrait of harmony and content, an ideal land for its denizens.

"Your homeland is gorgeous." He blurted without thinking. Instead of the usual teasing and comparison to Demacia, all he got was a held gaze looking out toward the same sights as he was, a look filled with happiness, love and a tinge of regret.

"It is. I… I want to show it all to you." She spoke without thinking as well. She turned to him, her mind on many different images of Ionia and the places she had visited, the people she had spoken to and the spirits she had danced with.

"Back in Navori, my home province northeast of here, there is an almost endless field of silver earth, saturated with soothing magical energies. I know you might not think it safe, but trust me, it is. It is a quiet, safe spot, free from the troubles of the world and where I go to dance alone, enjoying every single second of solitude and motion I make. I… want to show them to you. Maybe… maybe the peace will help you. Worth a try, right?" Irelia started off excitedly, but when she came to the parts about her privacy and the offer to show him, she turned hesitant, almost shy. One half of Garen's mind lingered on her face, thinking it was adorable beyond compare when she looked away in embarrassment. The other part, however, wanted answers… and reminded him what he was here for.

"Help me with what?" He asked. The shyness was suddenly gone, replaced with a will to help.

"With understanding magic." Irelia addressed the issue the Demacian knight had spoken of since she met him and one that has probably been hounding him almost his entire life. Garen looked away, the sparkles of the blue lights, the strange colors of the fauna and the soft, melodious breeze reminding him that every one of the aforementioned things were affected by magic one way or another. The idea of exposing himself to the chaotic and unpredictable power stretching out across all of Runeterra and maybe even beyond was not something he wanted to even look at, much less entertain. At first, he thought he would leave well enough alone, him staying away from magic and it staying away from him, but the more he travelled the more he realized they had been on a collision course the whole time, a course that was now too late to deviate from seeing as how their smash into one another was imminent.

'Fear is the first of many foes.'

Why now? Why did those words peek out of his mind's depths at this moment?

A stray thought came along with them, casting him back into the loud and deadly first strike of the Mage Rebellion back in Demacia. When he heard about the attack, he was less than thrilled, but knew he had to get as many out as possible and to contain whoever or whatever was causing the incident. When word had reached him that Luxanna was in the middle of it all, however, all orders and ideals were tossed out the window as he flew into the square where it all happened. Despite his efforts, he was defeated by a stronger foe and a force he barely knew anything about. Knowing was half the battle, after all and all of Demacia knew about him, including Sylas, the rebellion's leader. When word had gotten to the capital that the fugitive had made for the northern borders, he had been dispatched by Jarvan to hunt him down and bring him to justice. Afterwards, everything was a blur and darkness.

And now, so far away from home, Garen realized that magic would be a part of his life, in one form or another. If he couldn't make peace with it like Lux did, he could at least establish a neutral ground, for her sake as well as his own. Entering Ionia, fighting the Order of Shadows and hearing one of its elders speak about the divisions plaguing them after the fallout from the war reminded him of another inevitable truth about both their lands.

Demacia and Ionia were changing, but it would be its people that decided what they would change into.

All of these thoughts distracted him from the touch of warm skin on his fingers and palm. He looked down, noticing Irelia holding his hand in her own, a look of concern on her face.

"You holding up?"

"I'll manage. In fact, I have to." He slowly squeezed her hand in turn, looking at her with pleading and determined eyes.

"Sorry to ask this of you this soon and in the middle of your own troubles, but I'll require a bit of advice doing that here."

"Hey, I thought I said no more moping." She said as firmly as she grasped his hand.

"Whatever you need, whatever it takes… I'm here." No more moping, indeed. He looked to the horizon once more. As he hoped the previous night, whatever Ionia had in store for him, he would not face it alone. From the crowds, Akali and Nami observed the peculiar duo.

"So… what's the deal with them? I don't recall Garen mentioning they were… close." Nami asked, confused by the duo's interactions.

"Honestly, I don't know. From what I could gather, Irelia _seems_ to have a thing for him, but I'm not sure. Thunder, on the other hand-"

"-Is a quiver short of a few arrows in that regard, I know." Nami just nodded, having gathered a few hints about Garen's thick skull from just a few conversations with him.

"Well, at least he is honest. If whatever they have between them moves further on, he'll have nothing to hide." She added.

"Assuming he's even interested. Something tells me he ain't, given how he has a tunnel-vision only for his goal. Eh, it doesn't matter. Not our business." Akali stretched, knowing that involving herself in personal matters never ended well for her or the included parties. Nami had more questions on the matter, but let it slide; as someone who had crossed half the planet for her people, she knew what this journey meant to Garen and would not do anything to distract him from it, at least not intentionally. Were she not so busy with her own mission, maybe she would've helped him get home. As the knight in question turned to head toward them, she gripped her staff a bit tighter; whatever help she could offer now, she would do so gladly.

"There you two are." Nami acted as if they only just spotted them.

"Knivey, I know out there you have a habit of getting lost, but try not to let it follow you home." Akali picked up on Nami's idea, skillfully blending her own words in.

"I wasn't lost, but Garen was. I just found him, guided him like the good quail-puppy he is and here we are." Irelia made a white lie, though it was more like a half-truth, given what they talked about.

"What's a quail-puppy?" He asked, his mind kneeing him for posing a question he wanted no answer to.

"Exactly what it sounds like, Thunder… or should I just call you puppy?"

"Please don't."

"No promises. And now, I suggest we get some rest and get to know our hosts. I'll ask around for anything regarding the Order and sneak around where I'm not allowed." Akali cracked her fingers, eager to get to work. An assassin's life suited her, but it got even better once she gained her freedom to roam around Ionia, cleaning it up kill by kill. Elder Mai had brought up a good point with her question, however; you can't solve equations of life with variables of death. She found herself wondering what life would have in store for her after all of this was over.

"Must you always break every single rule wherever you go? These whims of yours are going get people hurt and maybe even killed. First your disappearance from after the retaliatory battle, then after the deliverance of your questionably acquired information and now poking your nose where it could get broken." Irelia chided her.

"_My_ whims? I'm sorry, who rushed in, blades spread out and roaring like a lion-ox the minute they heard about another Noxian attack? Oh, and that 'questionably acquired' info got wind of Swain, his right hand and that… zombie monstrosity coming ashore with a specialized battalion of mages and legionnaires, too specialized for a single pillage along the coast. I told you not to rush off without backup but _neugh~_. Miss Savior of Ionia has to charge _right_ into the trap set to capture and kill only her." Akali would have none of it.

"Wait… you were there? You saw her get captured?" Garen connected the obvious dots.

"No, I had my own mission, so I couldn't provide backup. _She_ disregarded my advice and went off anyway-"

"I wasn't about to let those people die. I have enough death on my conscience, unlike you, you guiltless heavy sleeper." They were slowly turning it into a full-blown quarrel, Nami sensing it a mile away as she floated slowly backward, an anxious and helpless look on her face.

"Their blood's not on your hands, you moron. It's on those who held the blade that slaughtered them. You go on living this way, though, and not only Noxus but the Brotherhood as well, all of them are gonna abuse the hell out of that fact and hit you back in the face with it. Even you aren't skilled or graceful enough to dodge a blow you throw at yourself." Akali twirled one of her kunai almost menacingly. Despite her admiration and respect, she would not take any sass from the Blade Dancer.

"At least I can say I was there, even as a corpse… whereas you run and wait until it blows over, a lot more of them on the ground for you to lament over." Irelia wasn't afraid to strike the assassin where it hurt. Akali's eyes showed the wince from the pain, but she kept on anyway, her anger at what her comrade was accusing her of getting the better of her.

"Girls, come on-" Nami bravely tried to get a handle on the situation, but Akali just brushed past her.

"And yet afterwards there I stood, saving all I could after you gave in to your own anger and left them exposed to Noxus." Akali got close to her, her small stature still a bit threatening even to one as tall as Irelia. Her crest began shimmering, only being quieted after Irelia steadied her loosening control over it.

"At least half the village was slaughtered after they took what they came for. Do you know why? Because **someone** couldn't get it through her skull that sometimes, fighting back _**isn't the right call**_. You resisting and charging in to engage the invaders 'inspired' them to take up arms and rescue you instead of running away and saving themselves and their friends and families. Guess how many feet under the dirt they are now, their bodies too mangled and burned to even be properly prepared for a sky burial." The Rogue Assassin was fully staring down the Blade Dancer, pitting a lesson she had learned the hard way against one who adamantly refused to do so. Irelia's eyes slowly lit up in realization, it slowly being processed by her mind and refined into pain and guilt.

"You're real quick to charge in, screaming for defiance and freedom as you promise not to abandon your fellows. But when those people died, fighting back against a foe they should've run away from…" Akali took off her mask, fully revealing her face and anger-filled eyes.

"Where were you then, Irelia?"

The minute-long silence feeling like a dark and cold century passing through excruciatingly long was all the answer anyone got.

"Dammit, I'm starting to sound like Shen…" Akali turned away, unable to cause anymore pain to anyone. In her heart, she really did believe Irelia had the best intentions and she had done so much already for her homeland and its people. Like the Blade Dancer, Akali believed that someone needed to do something about invaders, traitors and separatists doing harm to Ionia.

So why? Why did it feel right to say those things to her, even though it cut her deep?

'Action is not inherently superior to inaction, Akali. A bloom needs to grow on its own without anything influencing its development. Otherwise, the entire tree might be forced to give up its precious attention to dedicating itself to the growth of that one blossom while neglecting the rest.'

Shen's calm and collected voice rang out through her thoughts. It scared her how much of his lessons stuck with her after all this time. Maybe she should've stayed longer with him, at least to figure things out between them, the Kinkou, their mission and their place in Ionia's future course.

At times like these, she wondered why he let her go.

'A bloom needs to grow on its own.'

Was he calling her a flower? Nah, that didn't sound like Shen.

"That village… Kaon I think its name was… it had no guards, no military or any martial arts schools. It was a quiet fishing village, like the one me and Garen arrived at. They lived their lives in peace, the ideal we all hold on to and hope to achieve. Then, in an instant and without warning, it was befouled and destroyed by Noxus. Everything those… **monsters** touch, it all turns to dust and ashes, blown away by whatever breeze is cruel enough to not let them rest where they fell." Irelia returned from her quagmire, bringing a part of it with her and getting the three's attentions.

"They'll always be back, Akali. It's who they are. They know nothing but war and death. They don't care for anything if it doesn't submit to their ways and doesn't bleed itself dry for their insatiable demonic empire. It takes their very souls, twists them and perverts them into war machines until there is nothing left but orders, butchery and savagery. They're barely human, Akali. You know this." Her blades lowered, as if grieving alongside her as she looked down, remembering all those taken away from her, family and friends both, slaughtered and buried in barely covered graves.

"So tell me… in face of something like that… something that takes everything away, even your merciful death and your instinct to run and live…" She looked to all of them, begging for them to tell her _anything_.

"What else was I supposed to do?"

Yet another deafening stillness lasting an eternity. It was strange to think how many of those happened to her and Garen in the past few months. Seeing the world for the vastness and chaos that it was rapidly changed them into something they weren't able to tell whether it was good or bad. Either way, more difficulties lay ahead. She looked at Akali, the assassin's face painted with surprise and silence, transforming into regret when they locked eyes. They meant what they said, every aggrieved word… Having friends among Ionians was considered a luxury nowadays and for very good reasons.

"Well, so much for getting some rest…" Nami's bravery returned, awkwardly breaking the silence.

"We, uh… better get some supplies. It's going to be a long trip." Garen picked up where the Marai left off just as gracelessly.

"I'll go with you, help you pick out what we need. I assume that's fine with you, Nami?" Irelia slowly perked up, eager to get out of this mess.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure, I'm good. Catch you guys later?" The Marai answered automatically, unsure of whether or not she should stay out of it. Ionia was filled with strange and volatile people, but Akali and Irelia didn't seem like the sort. It just occurred to her she didn't know any of them as well as she thought or wished to. She also didn't want to separate from the only person who she had anything resembling a bond with, but recognized Garen trying to resolve the situation and let her wants slide for now.

"Sure. We'll see you later. And Akali? Just… take care, alright?"

"Yeah. You too."

Even with the soured mood, they still continued to talk to each other amicably, enough for Garen and Nami to take it as a good sign. The two suddenly remembered that even though they had witnessed an argument between two people they considered to be their friends, the Ionian women knew each other long before either Nami or Garen had met either of them. And yet, with the sour and abrupt introduction into Ionia, they still didn't have time to get used to how such things were handled between them here. Besides themselves, they were the only two familiar faces in a land they barely knew. If anything, they needed a few allies by their sides who knew where they were going. Garen went off with Irelia while Nami and Akali gave a courteous nod to each other and headed in opposite directions, Akali opportunistically scanning for trouble and info-providers while Nami simply asked the person nearest to her where might she find the Aspect of the Moon or if they have heard anything regarding her. In the market crowds the eagle and the phoenix lingered, slowly picking out fruits and clothes for their journey.

"You… wanna talk about it?" Garen suddenly asked, wondering if he could somehow help.

"Hmm? Oh! Don't worry about it, really. We're just… figuring out where we stand and how things are between us." Though her words were shaky, she stood by them. Deciding to press the issue when the time was right, Garen dropped the subject and instead focused on what was in front of him.

"Understood. So with that being settled… what are those?" He pointed to a strange blue bushel or small round fruits.

"Those are moon grapes. Perfect for eating during a hot day as they cool your body temperature and ease up your blood pressure. Don't consume too much, though, or you might turn sour and cold. Well, sourer in your case." Irelia explained.

"Me? Sour? Never."

"Whatever you say, Hero."

"At any rate, we'll need those. What else? What's that? Looks like some sort of pear." Garen at least succeeded in getting her mind back on track. They had a lot to do before they reached their destination.

From the outside, the winds were calmly guiding the ancients, their slow, thundering and proud traversing signaling those below, spirit and beast, to move or to show respect, sometimes both. The blue skies followed them all day, making sure to let the sun's light warm the land and all who wished for its touch. The occasional fluffy cloud passed through, saying hello on its way to a greater gathering or perhaps to the other side of the land, whichever way the gales took it. Ionia enjoyed this moment of tranquility… and readied her denizens, for soon it would finally be taking the first step towards its future.

And such things were never certain.

* * *

"Damn it. We lost the trail." An acolyte, no more than sixteen years old but still willing to follow the Order's ideals, cursed underneath her breath as she kicked a rock aside. The Order had been following the intruders for three days along the grass rivers, but lost their trail when the ancients made a sudden detour across the Zhyun mountain pass, walking through a passage that was too heavily guarded by spirits who would only let the ancients and their denizens pass through. They camped around a large curved pass with a swirl rock formation at the end of it, barring and slightly obscuring the small valley behind it. Almost all Ionians knew of the magical properties of the swirl rock formations; they were not only passageways but also gates, only opening when certain conditions were met. Which ones still remained active, however, was yet to be surmised. Many of the magical rocks had lost some of their potency over the centuries, some out of overuse and others out of damage received during the war. Ionians utilized them to escape their Noxian pursuers, passing through the rock unharmed while the invaders remained trapped behind. That is, until the Noxians got creative and bombarded the rocks with explosive alchemical concoctions, courtesy of their Zaunite allies. It was just another disrespectful and dishonorable massacre upon a peaceful land. And just like the other desecrations inflicted upon the land, nobody was sure if they would ever recover from it.

"Relax, will you? There are other ways around the swirl rocks. We just gotta know where to look." Another acolyte, a tall and skinny spear wielder, placated her.

"I know, but master Zed is not a patient man. Too much is riding on our operation in Kashuri for it to fail or be derailed even in the slightest." The female acolyte ran a hand through the surface of the floating formation, feeling the powerful magic coursing around it, yet not invading beneath the surface or cracking it. Thousands of years passing by and they still didn't know how the magic of the land functioned. They simply accepted it and lived in harmony with it as best they could.

That is, until the invasion, when the mirror shattered and exposed them for who they truly were underneath the peaceful harmonious folk they thought they were.

Sometimes, it felt like there were too many shards to sharp to put back together again, like they didn't _want_ to be whole again.

"You have to understand, Kovi. Master Zed has been under a lot of stress lately. The capture of that… monster… well, it took its toll on him. It should've been a quick and clean kill, but the head of the Kinkou intervened, carrying an order from the Council of Elders that he is to be spared and brought in for interrogation and trial."

"They put demons on trial now?"

"Not our place to speculate on that. It broke the alliance between us and the Kinkou faster than a thrown stone shattering glass, though. We take matters into our own hands now."

"Fat lot of good that does us. On one front, the vastaya are amassing more by the minute. On the other, the Council brands us traitors and hunts us down. Of all the things to unite Ionia on… Are we really the villains here?"

"No such thing as hero or villain, Kovi."

"With everything we've been doing, Maro, I'm kinda starting to feel like a villain…"

"Put it out of your head. We do what we must because-"

"- No one else can. Yeah, I know. Still, there should be a drawn line _somewhere_…" The young acolyte scraped a crude drawing of a few stick figures, two large and two small. At least nine tenths of the Order of Shadows were orphans or abandoned, doomed to live and die alone in the wilds of Ionia. Zed spat in the face of that destiny, choosing to grant them life and opportunities to direct its course rather than leave them to their fates. They were more than grateful to him, but lately his methods have come under question by some of them. They all understood that to capture the notorious Golden Demon, many rules, customs and even basic human decencies had to be broken and cast aside. They had succeeded… only for their triumph to be abruptly taken away by the Kinkou, the former balance keepers of Ionia. Zed had not been the same since the ordeal, seeking artifacts of power and bolstering the Order's ranks almost fervently. The members wouldn't say out loud, but the feeling was within all of them.

War was coming and this one wouldn't be against Noxus.

They didn't know if they had it in them to suffer through another one.

"What's it matter? Sooner or later, that one will be crossed as well."

Was it really all so cynical? It was a shaky truth at best, but it was still truth. There would always be someone worse. They knew better than anyone that one wrong man in the right place was all it took to bring it all crashing down. The Eye of Twilight and the Golden Demon demonstrated that on their respective occasions.

"Ah, we're getting sidetracked! We need a way around the rock."

"Don't worry. He should be here any minute."

"Who?"

At that question, a call sounded off from the distance, above the small cliffs they were beneath. A few moments later, a young man jumped down into the ravine, slowing his descent with a menacing-looking scythe, a blood-red eyeball at the bridge between its blade and its base looking around almost hungrily. The man landed gracefully, his long braided ponytail flowing behind him on the landing. Upon closer look, the left half of his body, the one he held the scythe in, looked almost twisted, corrupted into fleshly armor and protruding bony sinew, moving all the way down to his baggy pants. Despite all this, he looked calm and collected, scanning his surroundings for any signs of ambush or anything out of order. Spotting the two acolytes, he approached them, gripping his scythe a bit tighter, the weapon almost vibrating up close.

"Report." The young man began as simple as possible, his tone even yet measuring.

"The swirl formation has locked the passage, apprentice Kayn. There's no way around it because of the enchanted mist, either. We've lost their trail, sir." The tall acolyte Maro reported to Zed's youngest and most promising apprentice. Though he eclipsed him in terms of height and strength, he knew he was far outclassed in skill and knowledge. Zed's personal apprentices were due much respect not only for being hand-picked by him but also for proving that judgment correct. Kayn was exceptional, however. In all his service, he had never once lost a fight. Every acolyte admired that about him, yet he kept everyone but Zed at arm's length. Many of the seasoned Order warriors got a glimpse of the truth about that fact; he was having an inner struggle… a struggle he kept even. One had to wonder whether it was with himself or something else, something far more sinister…

"Good work tracking them this far. I'll take it from here. Gather the rest of the unit. We move out once I'm through." He spoke with confidence as well, though his left arm trembled a bit.

"But sir, there's no way past it or around it." Kovi reiterated what her comrade had reported.

"There is for me. You have your orders, acolyte." He made it clear this was the end of the discussion. Maro made a bow and bade Kovi to follow, climbing carefully up the cliff. Kayn was left alone with a magical gate to open…

"**Well, they were certainly quivering with excitement, weren't they?**"

… and an ancient being, his kind long thought extinct by the rest of Runeterra.

"Not more than you, it seems."

"**Being trapped for thousands of years in a weapon with nothing but your own thoughts tends to leave one fidgety for the simpler pleasures, you know. I'm talking wholesale murder here.**" The scythe spoke in a deep yet amused voice, or rather the being trapped inside it did, an ancient creature known and cursed by many as a Darkin, a corruptor of flesh and soul.

"I didn't know your mind was that empty, Rhaast."

"**Oh, just enough room in here for slaughter, carnage, destruction, massacre, ruination, undoing and slaughter.**"

"You said 'slaughter' twice."

"… **And your point is?**"

"Ugh. Enough! I don't need your petty distractions right now."

"**Then why are you paying attention to everything I do and say?**" The Darkin was both literally and figuratively getting under his skin.

"Someone has to keep you in check."

"**Ah, I see. You like thinking you are the only man for the job. Adorable. And how exactly do you plan to do both that and the groveling you do for that has-been ninja, hmm?**" And he was good at it.

"Silence." Kayn had no choice but to put the duel on hold as Rhaast was getting the upper hand. A Darkin weapon granted incredible power, but the being inside it took your body and purged your soul as a result. Kayn was one of the few who could resist the corruption, though even he wasn't immune to it. He wouldn't relent, though. That option went out the window the moment her gripped the accursed scythe.

Focusing on the missions his master gave him was a good way to steel his mind and this one was a perfect opportunity to both do it and sharpen his shadow powers. He approached the swirl rock formation, eyeing the grand carvings. Zed has shown him previous formations before, all naturally occurring and each containing different mystical proportions. Even after thousands of years, the full extent of their secrets had yet to be discovered. One of them, however, was discovered by Zed, specifically how to render them inert for a time, a knowledge he passed onto all his personal acolytes, including Kayn.

As he approached the formation, he noticed the carvings, naturally occurring throughout the length of the rocks. Nobody knew how or when they formed and it was impossible to get a determined age on one even with an ancient spirit's help. Kayn found himself tracing a hand through the lines, wondering why they formed the way they did. The lines were all different across all the rocks they encountered, as if they were unique as fingerprints on a human. Maybe that's what they were, but he wasn't here for a study of history. He was here on a mission.

With a simple focused thought, he channeled his shadow powers from the deepest respites of his soul. His tracing fingers suddenly became intangible, easily phasing through the rock along with his arm. His entire body followed, dissolving into a darkened spectral shape, unhindered by both the stone and magic of the rock. As he moved through the swirl rock, he sensed the formations on a deeper level. Weaving through the stones, he spotted the magic thread that connected the formation to the land itself, calling the mist to shield the ones before them. Shield… that was the feeling it gave off. They were their enemies, Ionian turned on Ionian. Or maybe they weren't and were just scared of their might and what they could do. He wouldn't trade it for anything, given that he fought and bled for his homeland whereas they were probably living their lives running away and saving themselves. Deep down, it made him angry. No wonder his master despised people such as those; they were weak and unworthy of their homeland, only running instead of fighting for it. The war would never be over, that much he knew. After all, he was once a Noxian. Fighting and war were in his blood, but at least now, he had a purpose. He had a goal. He had someone to surpass.

Grasping the loose thread, Kayn pulled tightly, as if untying a mooring rope. Within an instant, the magical energies from the swirl rocks were dispelled and the formation reassembled itself into a half-circular opening. To others, it might have very well been sacrilege. To him, it was just a door that needed to be unlocked.

"**My oh my, such conviction. I was wondering how you came to be such a heavy sleeper.**" As he was in his hand, Rhaast phased along with him, clearly enjoying himself at the prospect of both Kayn's power and his annoyance. They almost shared each other's thoughts and thus knew how to annoy or prod one another where they could sense it most.

"Must you always rear you ugly voice at the most inconvenient of times?"

"**It's part of my charm.**"

"I'm sure it is. Now be silent." Kayn disrupted Rhaast's voice once more, not in the mood for duels. As the rock stopped humming and settled completely, Kayn called out to the others.

"All clear, acolytes! We move out!" At his signal, the other two plus a unit of three more jumped down from the cliffs, each landing beside Kayn.

"How did you do that?" Kovi asked, only realizing the question was out after she asked.

"Kovi, we don't question our superiors-"

"It's fine, Maro. I have been trained in the arts of shadow manipulation by master Zed himself, acolyte Kovi. Should you prove worthy, he might even select you, as well." Kayn offered, knowing that he was overstepping his master's decrees, even if it was a by the tip of a toe.

"I… Thank you for telling us that, apprentice Kayn."

"You're welcome. Now enough distractions. We've delayed too long. The formation will not remain inert for long. Move out, acolytes!" Kayn pointed Rhaast toward the valley stretching out before them, the beautiful green and blue forests seemingly still at their sights, as if afraid of their approach. It mattered not.

They had a mission to complete.

* * *

The quiet rumbling noises of the ancient giant turtles stirred the spirits of the nearby forests, many of the younger ones coming out to see the colossi marching across the lands. Every Ionian, be it creature, spirit or human, had a deep respect for the ancient history of their lands and even more so for those that lived through it. Tradition was something not only ingrained in their very being but also as natural to follow and revere as breathing. After all, if the past was not remembered, how can they possibly live through today and hope for tomorrow?

The rumble slowly stirred the denizens of the shells, the Ionians greeting the day with prayer, small cheer and a few stretches here and there. Elder Mai opened her eyes, still springy even in her twilight years as she hopped out of her mattress and grabbed her staff. Stopping outside the opening, she inspected their surroundings.

At the edge of the horizon, behind a glade of sun lilies where the featherbees and water peacocks danced to the sun's rays, a barren, almost lifeless land loomed, its light-brown dirt stretching beyond. They were nearing Kashuri, a city whose armories were reputed even beyond the First Lands to be able to replicate and reverse engineer almost any armament and weapon of war. It didn't sit well with folk like them; not only was it propagating more war and slaughter, but also driving Ionia towards foregoing tradition in favor of industrialization, an abhorring and troubling fact for a land which was trying to return to its harmonious ways. Metal and machines had no place beside magic and spirit. It was truly a sacrilege of the lowest kind.

During the eight-day travel period, she had asked her guests many times what they seek in that province. The easternmost parts of Zhyun weren't known for their respect towards the land and tradition, but rather for their unscrupulous, lofty and tradition-scorning ways. Organized crime, corruption, briberies and underground fights permeated throughout the region, carving a swath for even more bloodlust and chaos. Mai worried about the last daughter of Xan and her friends venturing into such a region. It wasn't a place of prosperity as it presented itself but a place of thievery and ambition, the latter of which clouded more minds than they cared to admit. The daughter of Tethi seemed to know the area well, given that she operated on many an occasion within the region, but it brought concern instead of peace. Despite her clever and perceptive mind, Akali was prone to causing trouble or getting into it. The few hotheaded arguments she caused during their trip were more than enough evidence. Her heart was in the right place, though, even if she would never admit it, always chalking it up to her training being such. There were also two more issues; a Demacian and a Marai one.

Although their goals were noble and their hearts pure, Mai still couldn't grasp their depths. Garen was proud in displaying his ideals and had no qualms against proclaiming his views on magic in all of his stories, feats and attitudes. Some of them were even correct in assuming magic responsible for the state Runeterra was in. A lot of people wanted to forget the Rune Wars ever happened, but such things should never fade from history or they risk them returning stronger. And yet, beneath all the pride and glory, the pomp and pageantry, there lay a soul that was confused, wary and curious about the world around him, as if this was his first time experiencing all of it. He harbored a nearly endless spring of hope beneath his armored shell of necessity and loyalty, but it took a lot to draw it out. Yet when it flowed, not just Demacia but the whole of Runeterra glowed brighter than any star, possibly on par with even the mythical Star Forger himself. An exaggeration, of course, but Elder Mai noticed something about him, hidden deep beneath the confines of his soul, locked under the light and darkness of his heart and chained by his mind. It was too obscured for anyone to see, even himself, but it was there, always out of sight.

The Marai was young for a Tidecaller, a title she was familiar with. Every elder knew the legends of the Lunari and their connections to the ocean's currents. Nami was currently searching for the Aspect of the Moon, but Mai clarified for her that she was searching for its host. Aspects were the simply the gods taking on a mortal form in order to walk more freely on Runeterra, their gracious hosts merely their guides for the duration of the journey. Nami was searching for one such person, though she didn't know it, surprised at the information and thankful for the clarity. Alas, they haven't heard anything of the Aspect and so, the young Marai continued on despite the disappointment. Unlike the Demacian, who lit the torches of hope, the Marai was an expert at carrying it, although it was limited to that of her people. Both, however, knew of its power and how it could uplift nations, ignite stars or defy the very gods. Mai suddenly wondered if this was how the magically inclined Marai and the anti-magic Demacian became friends…

She put the thought on hold as she heard the commotion behind her, knowing immediately what it was about. Gripping her staff, she headed toward her stone pillar, the crowd already formed around it and awaiting her call. Climbing on the small stairs to the top, she looked below her, her people, her students and loved ones, friends and family, all looking to her guidance. Sights like these reminded her why she promised herself to never fail them.

"Alright, you muckrakers. Settle down. You all know where we are." She addressed everyone, searching for four particular people in the crowd. Spotting the travellers, she pointed her staff toward them.

"Irelia Xan and her friends need to reach Kashuri. While we would never set foot near it, they must get there for their own reasons. We have promised to help them and that's what we'll do." Mai reminded them what they were here for.

From the crowd the four travellers stepped forth, ready and eager to start this journey on their own. Irelia replaced her pari with a suitable Ionian battle suit, nearly identical to the one she wore beforehand, except this one was slightly reinforced with thicker linings, making it far more durable yet light to move in. Ionian silks were the finest in the world, due in no small amount to the mystical properties they held. The colors were the same, though. She loved the dark blue and red hues of her original battle suit, seeing no reason to change them. The only thing missing from her first outfit was her armor, seeing as how the craftsmen weren't quite able to replicate it, but she would soon have the opportunity to replace that as well, since they were headed into Ionia's greatest armories.

Akali's pack was filled to the brim with her instruments of death; smoke bombs and kunai littered the insides while her kama dangled from her hip within easy reach. She had donned enchanted gloves to help steady her fingers and hands while the leather boots she had ordered and bought from one of the tailors were constantly soothing her feet even when she ran, making stamina a lesser issue when it came to escaping or chasing. She had always said that if you look dangerous, you better _be_ dangerous, a principle she followed since day one of her training. Still, having your foes overconfident was an excellent chance opener for an assassin, so her stance was relaxed, inviting any fools to try their luck.

Nami's scales from the waist down were now protected by stitched silvery cotton long skirt, comfortable and enchanted to defend her from both sword and spell. Her arms were now wrapped in runic leather gauntlets that helped her focus her spells and regain her energy faster. Her staff was also slightly enhanced by the small pearl socketed into its bottom end, augmenting its raw power and making her spells more potent. She rather enjoyed wearing new clothes, although human design still puzzled her. The craftsmen wanted to get creative with her tailfin but she drew the line there, fearing their madness would end her up with some sort of leg-mimicking contraption. She preferred floating instead of walking, that and her tailfin being clean.

Garen outshined them all, literally. His new and reflective combat armor was almost perfectly placed on his chest and back, enveloping the knight in a metal suit sculpted as accurately as possible to resemble his figure and size. His right arm was covered with Sterak's Gage up to half his arm while the shoulder was protected by Illaoi's gift, the Dead Man's Plate. His left arm was encased in a large vambrace made of the same metal and going all the way to the elbow. A large leather shoulder pad laced with metal coating rested atop his left shoulder, giving it adequate cover and making it easy for him to move it. His pants and boots were also made of the same materials as he needed the speed and to do that, he needed the freedom to move. Since they weren't as heavy as his armor, he could move and close the distance between him and his targets a lot faster, a fact he was starting to adapt to his combat techniques. Most important of all was his new blade. It was a finely honed steel saber as tall as he was, yet sleek in its design, with a slightly wider blade tip and just a little lighter than the sharkbone sword he traded in. Its guard was an intricately designed circle that was also a rotating mechanism in order to turn the blade different angles, something Garen both admired and was amazed by. The possibilities for many different strikes from even more angles were alluring to try, but he would stick with his usual combat style for now. The grip was wrapped in rope strings laced with the same silk the craftsmen used to design Irelia's and Nami's suit and skirt respectively, making it both a comfy and a steady grip. He grew very curious as to what the material's properties were and what it took to create such items out of them, but forging took both skill and patience, things only the luxury of time could afford. Nevertheless, he stood ready and eager to test out, scratch and dent his new armor, not admitting to his friends that he loved the combat damage testing the limits of the steel and letting him know when to stop and when to keep going.

All of the armor on him, however, was scrubbed to perfection, making for a second sun the moment the first one's rays fell on the metal.

"You know, I don't think I remember you mentioning Demacians blinded their foes on the field with all the pompous shiny suits they wear." Irelia didn't wait in jabbing him.

"An effective tactic, wouldn't you say?" Garen kept a catty smile on his raised, smug face.

"Truly. Your noses would always be up in the air so you wouldn't be blinded by each other's armor. Of course, you also wouldn't see how you all look, so no infighting about style copying or outshining."

"I know. Although it's been a part of the Vanguard's tactics since its founding, I perfected it with my glorious chiseled physique and divine jawline. Our enemies stood no chance." He puffed out like a peacock, displaying all his features to anyone who so much as thought about turning in his direction.

"Except when they stab you in the back. Then you get captured by an empire's assassins, almost get executed, have to escape the other way around the world and end up on the opposite side of home. Smooth strategy, Thunder." Akali laid waste to every word with two simple sentences, adding a third to substitute for a kick to the head as good measure.

"Well… I haven't worked out _all_ the kinks yet."

"Plenty of time, then. Kashuri is generous when it comes to repairs and creating steel and iron madness. I'm sure you'll find _someone_ as gaudy and insane as you."

"I'll take your word on that." Garen sheathed his new sword, standing ready to continue the journey.

"Are we all set? No one forgetting anything?" Nami asked, eager to continue her quest. It was strange having human companions at first, but she grew to like them. At least she wasn't alone, for however long that lasted.

"Willing and able." Akali confirmed, flipping a kunai in her hand.

"I stand ready." Garen raised a fist halfway.

"I am prepared as well." Irelia's crest split in acknowledgement.

"Well, would you look at that…" Mai cast her eyes on the four souls in front of her, each with their own agenda and goal to reach, yet brought together by Ionia and her troubles. Maybe the land sensed they would help her and her denizens and thus, brought them all together. Still, she had no clue as to _how_ the four of them could help an entire continent heal itself. She trusted the Great Spirit of her land, though. Most Ionians were believers out of practicality and empiricism, not inner hope or unexplained feelings of magic and mysticism. In the recent past years, Ionia lost much of the latter while being overwhelmed with the former. As with all things currently, they were out of balance. People lost hope far too quickly. Maybe these four could ignite that spark again.

"I'm not one to stand in people's way when they rush towards their destinies. But may the Spirit guard you all on your journeys." Mai bowed, her people following along.

"Thank you for your hospitality, elder. May the Spirit bring you and your people peace and prosperity." Irelia and her friends bowed in return, walking out and descending through the shell.

"Bah, we'll make those things on our own, Daughter of Xan. An extra whacking stick and a lot more ears opened is what I need from it." Mai complained, her old age slowly but surely catching up to her in her words. Through the laughs and groans from her people, she took one last look at the group; Irelia confidently taking the lead out the grown stairs, Garen following behind with an adventurous wonder in his eyes seasoned with determination to return to his homeland, Akali with focused eyes and cocky smile and Nami watching their backs and happy to not be alone on her quest. When they reached the bottom, the group turned one last time, giving off a heartfelt wave each in their own way, before setting off to Kashuri. As they entered the bordering woods, the turtles rose up, continuing on their journey throughout Ionia. The crowds cleared from the edge of the shell's opening until only Elder Mai remained.

"Farewell, Irelia Xan. Keep yourself safe. Ionia needs you now more than ever."

She had faith the wind would carry her words to her, but Irelia was a soul that loved all of her people. It was this love, however, that held her back on making the prudent decisions. A blessing presented itself in that regard; the three accompanying her on her journey.

"And listen to your friends. Keep them by your side. When the time comes, they'll protect you… even from yourself."

With that final prayer, Elder Mai turned to tend to her people, hopefully leading them to a better future, one step at a time, much like the ancients that carried them.

"Ugh! I don't wanna walk anymore- float anymore- You know what I mean!" Two days of constant travel made Nami a little impatient. There were no people to meet in the forests, only mischievous spirits and dangerous beasts. The only exciting thing that happened to them was an encounter with an Oni, a massive creature known in Ionia for it short temper and eagerness to fight. They were also rumored to have allergies to red beans, but that was unconfirmed by Irelia and Akali, neither of whom were daring and bored enough to test the rumor. She was so grateful to finally help her newfound friends, but a swift block of the Oni's club by Garen, a thrown smoke bomb in its eyes by Akali and six blades slashing its head off by Irelia cut the encounter short rather literally. Afterwards, it's been nothing but endless walking and talking about each other's homes. Although she learned a lot about Demacia and Ionia, telling them everything about her tribe in return, they had found neither sight nor sound of any other human or vastaya in the vicinity or the road they traveled on.

"Applying human terms on yourself, are you?" Garen asked, amused by her reaction and wanting to help the young Marai relax a little.

"I'm blaming you guys for that." Nami's face became that of a pufferfish's.

"Watch out, people. Nami's gonna wash us all out with her adorable pouts and magic spit torrents." Akali sharpened her wit as a practice for the next one.

"…You do realize I can literally _summon tsunamis_, right?"

"Well, summon one and let's surf on outta here faster."

"Ladies, please. You're embarrassing yourselves." Irelia called out from the front, too focused on the road and a little bit haughty to turn and look at them.

"Oh boy. Miss Sharp-and-Stabby finally threw in her two coppers. I'm surprised you had any left, given how you tunnel-visioned the whole day away."

"With you around, broom-hair, I wish my ears had the same luxury."

"Eh, shut up."

"I love our talks, I really do." Garen chimed in, smile not diminished in the slightest.

"Well, at least you all get your wishes. I see an opening ahead." Irelia pointed towards an arch of light formed from the trunks and crowns of two large maple trees.

"Two maples marking an exit, just like the old lady said." Akali said.

"Meaning we're out of this stupid forest! Uh, no offense…" Nami let out her frustrations for an instant, only calming down when she spotted a squirrel spirit scowling at her. The group picked up the pace, reaching the arch in a few seconds, wanting not only to clear the forest but to also to find the road to Kashuri as soon as possible.

What they found was not what they expected.

An almost barren valley, nearly stripped of all life and magic stretched out before them, a dusty breeze serving as their welcome. Neither wise spirit nor noble beast dwelled here, only scavengers, survivors and thieves. The tree stumps carried no existences inside them, only lifelessness and vaught. In the distance several kilometers east of them lay a large city with a few smoke columns rising from it, the quinlons surrounding it absorbing the magic around its environment.

"What the… What is this place?" Nami asked, appalled at what she was seeing.

"The area around Kashuri. That there in the distance is the Iron City itself, the greatest forge in Ionia." Akali explained.

"It's so… empty." Garen remarked, strangely saddened at the loss of whatever beauty was here before.

"Look there. See those giant red floating crystals?" Irelia pointed towards the chain of crystals encircling Kashuri.

"Those are called quinlons. They absorb the magical energy around them and harness it into a usable resource. A disgusting practice, if you ask me. Magic should be free, not chained. We only do ourselves harm by enslaving it." She scowled at the thought of magic being used in such ways as they were no better than the invaders in that regard.

"So that's how they can make all those weapons and armor in such large quantities." Garen made the observation. Ionia had not been idle all this time, though he suddenly found himself thinking about what this would mean for the rest of the world.

"What kinds of things are created there?" Nami asked.

"All kinds, actually. Kashuri used to be a crafting and blacksmithing town, originally. Martial arts masters and fighters from all over the continent would travel far and wide to have a weapon, a symbol of their school or armor forged by the Kashuri craftsmen, who were unequaled in Ionia. Over time and with the war, however, it switched to manufacturing only tools of war." Akali twirled a kunai, traipsing through the cracks in the soil.

"It cannot continue this way." Irelia said, her crest shimmering beneath the heating sun's rays.

"Who's gonna stop them? You? If Karma can't do anythi-"

"I'm not Karma." Irelia fully split her crest.

"I am always out here, fighting for our land and trying to keep it as safe as possible, from itself and from outsiders. She is sitting in her altar, awaiting extermination while preaching 'peace'. We'll see what her words will be when her 'prayers' and 'blessings' lead all of her followers into death." She increased her pace. Her companions simply followed suit, not wanting to get into an argument they had so little context for. All except one.

"She led us to help you." Akali silenced the Blade Dancer with one simple sentence. Despite her skill and power, Irelia was still an amateur when it came to strategy and battle tactics. All she knew was to charge straight into the enemy and cause chaos. It fell to her allies to rein her fury in and keep her safe. Though they were more than happy to do so, they still admonished her after the second invasion attempt, especially Karma.

"Well, next time she can get there sooner so I don't have to hold the line for you people to meditate, strategize and make up your minds while I keep the civilians safe." It was Irelia's turn to render the assassin speechless.

"I… Point taken." Akali relented to the Blade Dancer for the first time since Nami and Garen met her.

"I know I cannot change an entire city and trying to do so might endanger the good folk that also attempt it, but I cannot stand by and watch things unfold in the direction which we dread for our homeland to take. We have to point their unsheathed blades in Noxus and any other invaders' faces, not our own. We have to remind our people what they fight for, not who they fight against." Irelia turned to her friends, a look of resolute purpose on her face.

"I know I ask a lot of all three of you, but…"

"I'm right behind you." Akali gripped her kunai.

"You can count on me, as well. For as long as I'm with you guys, at least." Nami straightened her staff up.

"Together, remember?" Garen reminded her.

"Together. All of us." Irelia took the lead confidently towards the Iron City and her first steps into the future she desired, her three companions following her every step, each with their own admiration toward her.

* * *

The large steel gates of Kashuri were wide open, allowing trade to flow both in and out of the Iron City. Despite some of the more traditional views, or scoffs, Kashuri was the most prosperous city in all of Ionia, due in no small part to the war. Its forges have been upgraded into massive manufacturing complexes capable of producing tools of war at a frightening rate. All of this freedom and opportunity, however, gave leeway to all types, including unsavory types such as criminals and fugitives from the war, Noxian deserters in disguise and vastayan traitors to the rebellion. All were seeking to etch out a new life for themselves in Kashuri and it was more than happy to provide them the opportunity.

Through the crowds entering the city, two peculiar vastaya moved through the crowds. Rather, one was a vastaya and the other was… something in between. The short female human-animal hybrid wore a white kimono decorated with lotuses, her snowy white hair falling to her neck, the tied ponytail behind it all the way to her shoulders. Her ears gave away her nature in case people were too distracted by her soft, gorgeous and motherly face. The large man beside her, however, was quite the opposite. His skin was smooth, exposing his toned abs and chest, the red-fur, blue-leather vest accenting his muscled arms and gloved hands and his white trousers spotless as well as his shoes. His face had a five o'clock shadow, accenting his handsome jawline, crimson-brown eyes and light red hair. The one defining feature about him was his strange animal ears, looking like a strange mix between wolverine and cat. He strode confidently beside the small female, glancing in the vicinity around her as if making sure no one tried anything incredulously stupid. The vastaya simply walked calmly and looked at the sight, not impressed by what she had seen.

"Settrigh, are you sure we had to come here? Kashuri is not exactly very welcoming for our kind." The vastaya spoke to the large man.

"Come on, ma. It'll be fine. Anyone tries anything stupid, I'll introduce 'em to Lefty and Smacker personally." The large vastaya-human hybrid smacked his fists together.

"Settrigh, we've been over this-"

"I know, I just… Ma, if anything were to happen to you-"

"I handled your lousy excuse of a father, I can handle myself."

"Sorry, ma."

"It's ok, sweetie. Just promise me you won't start the fights."

"I can promise that. I mean, I promise. I won't _start_ anything."

"Thank you, Settrigh. Now, where was your new workplace again?" The mother sounded curious, something that immediately alarmed the large young man.

"Uh, uhm… Yeah, that- L-listen, ma, why don't we just get to the place where we'll be staying first, huh? You look tired."

"What? Sweetie, I'm fine-"

"In fact, I'm hungry. Why don't we get some dinner first? Just the two of us?" The large hybrid known as Sett started dodging the issue of his new 'workplace', as he had done so all the way they traveled. The leader of Ionia's largest underground fighting ring had destroyed, dominated and demolished his way to the top, while keeping it a secret from his mother who forbade him to do any fighting, fearing he would follow in his father's bloody and selfish footsteps. He almost became everything she feared, had it not been for his overwhelming love for her, which he considered one of the best things about himself.

No matter what, he couldn't afford hurting the only person in his life who loved him for who he could be, not what he already was. Maybe deep down, he hoped that one day, he would do something that would make her the proudest mother on all of Runeterra.

"Still not embarrassed dining with your mother?" She smiled, conveying that despite her small tease, she was glad to still be a part of her son's life.

"Never in a billion years, ma. A lot more, actually. I'll tell how much over the miso and pork rinds." Sett put his arm around her, nuzzling her slightly, his mother warmly returning the favor. He brought her here to enjoy herself and see a little bit more of her homeland… and therefore could, under no circumstance, reveal to her that he was actually here to expand his underground business. From behind and around him, trailing at least twenty paces behind, his people followed closely, making sure the Boss and his mom went about their day undisturbed. This entrance, however, was only the first of the many that would come together in the Iron City.

* * *

In a bar carefully placed between a papercraft shop and a small carving store, bustle flowed throughout the day; people came in and out, leaving fuller than when they came in, in more than just food and drink. Although the bouncers, two large cleaver wielders, were always on guard, they couldn't catch them all. The circular establishment was almost artfully decorated with small tables and sitting pillows, all of which were filled with orders flying between the waiters and waitresses. One small sitting pillow, however, was isolated from the rest, sitting contently in a dark corner. Its patron was quiet, the blue baggy pants matching his navel-less vest. An intricately carved metal shoulder guard that looked like it belonged to a full set of armor once dangled on his shoulder like a shiny piece of silverware in the midst of a kitchen of black pots and plates. His one-handed nodachi lay behind him, securely sheathed inside its scabbard, which once bore the insignia of his school. His windswept hair was tied in a large ponytail, as if blown away by the wind. In his hands, he held a flute up to his mouth, blowing almost nostalgic and mournful notes into it, the song only reaching his ears amidst the bar's chaos. He preferred it that way; the song was only meant for him. The tea in front of him steamed its relaxing aroma into his nostrils; he didn't know why he ordered tea, of all things. Maybe he was finally starting to get old… or perhaps, he was feeling tired of humankind's best friend and universal painkiller, the glorious alcohol. Perhaps today, he would allow himself a bit of pain and past reminiscence.

How many years passed since that fateful day, when his own comrades came for his head, spitting betrayal in his face?

How many years since his own brother faced him with the same charges?

How many years since he killed him, burying him with a grave fit for an honorable warrior?

Every note made the mood a bit sourer, yet clearer. Though he was absolved of his sins by others, he had yet to absolve himself of the same. Guilt wasn't something others took away from you. You had to be willing to let go of it yourself.

Just then, a slight breeze flew in to the bar, no one paying it any mind but the lone warrior. He stopped playing, opening his eyes and looking out towards the entrance. All his years on the road had taught him to follow any signs the wind gave him, for it was his only ally in this world. The only problem was it was a fickle friend, coming and going as it pleased. Because of that, he watched for even the slightest shifts in its directions… and this time, it blew toward him.

Something was coming his way, whether it was friend or foe, he could only tell when he saw it.

As he looked at the entrance, a figure passed by, hidden by a long dark cloak. For an instant, the figure turned its head, revealing slit glowing pupils, a mark of magic in Ionia and a vastayan lineage. Even from the dim lights, distance from eye to eye and tight frame of the cloak, he could tell the figure was a woman. The instant they locked eyes, however, the instant she continued onward, as if the moment was just that, a mere meaningless moment. The warrior spotted something very peculiar trailing behind her cloak as she left. It was a mere glimpse but even from the distance, from the shadows of his corner, he spotted a snowy protrusion at her feet. Something told him to look closer, leaning slightly forward.

Beneath the cloak of the vastaya flowed nine coupled tails.

He tucked away his flute, drank his tea in an instant, grabbed his sword, threw two gold pieces at the bartender and headed out, trailing after the cloaked wandering creature.

* * *

Kashuri's primary armory never truly rested; its magically fueled forges spewed out bot fire and metal, bringing both together to form swords, daggers, kunai, axes, spears and every other imaginable tool of war. From deep beneath its cooled blacksmith tables, magical smiths of all kinds pounded the dust out of the iron suits of armor, making sure that they were almost unbreakable. The noise, heat and metal smell were almost intolerable to someone unaccustomed to working as a smith, but these craftsmen were dedicated and unequaled in their craft.

From atop a small porch overlooking the entire factory, a man observed the working process, his black and crimson suit melding almost perfectly in the darkness of the ceiling. His scarred face held a steel gaze, focused on the work being done beneath him, like a hawk observing his prey. His bleached hair was slightly smudged from the smoke, but he paid it no heed. His metal gauntlets concealed two serrated wristblades, each carved to perfection into a perfect killing tool. In his right hand, he held a metal mask, carved in the shape of a skeletal human-looking demon. Even in the dark from down below, the faint red spark in his eyes could be seen, marking him as a magic wielder.

"There you are." He sensed the woman approaching him from fifty paces, but kept focused on the building process. The weapon was almost complete and the next batch was coming.

"Are we on schedule, Onoki?" The man asked in a rugged, raspy voice, not taking his eyes from the sight below, not even to acknowledge the tall, large woman in a fancy armored suit, her brown pigtails almost reaching the floor and her large scar across her young face.

"Everything's proceeding as planned, Zed. Father was kind enough to lend me his armories. He and master Kusho went back a ways, until they separated for-"

"-the same reasons I killed him. I know. Heard it from Kusho himself. Have any of the Kinkou caught wind of our operation?" The man known as Zed asked.

"None that we can tell, but we keep our eyes and ears open." Onoki reported. Zed acknowledged it with a sharp turn.

"Keep them more closed, Onoki. Any activity or sudden movement will alert them to our operation. We cannot risk even the slightest derailment in our plans." Zed simply spoke, gripping his mask tight. Ever since Jyom Pass and the debacle that Shen pulled, he has been searching for other ways to continue the fight for Ionia's total control and militarization. Strength was the only way to defeat a monster as big as Noxus and he needed plenty of it, even in ways he once abhorred. To him, it was just another line that needed to be crossed. He just never thought he would find in a place such as that.

"If you don't mind me asking…" Onoki took a tentative step forward, as if asking for approach permission.

"What is it?" He gave it, feeling there was no reason to keep his subordinates at arm's length.

"These schematics are incredibly atypical and specific. A cannon without a firing port, but with a quinlon accelerator? It's gonna take a tremendous amount of magical energy to fire even one of these beasts, let alone the number you requested. Not even you have that sort of power." He saw where she was getting at.

"But I've found someone who does."

"What? Who?"

"Their identity must remain a secret as I am still securing their allegiance. They share a common goal with us, though. At least, I convinced them we do." Zed explained a part of his plans. His expedition to that place landed him a very unlikely ally, one that could easily turn the tide of Ionia's future with the near-infinite power they possessed.

"I see. Well, I won't keep you any longer. I'll check on the iron shipments before th-" Onoki almost finished the meeting before they were interrupted by an acolyte.

"Master! Lady Saori! In the city! Western quadrant!" He was almost out of breath, but Zed wasted no time in shadow-porting away from his post and onto the roof of the factory. On it, another acolyte awaited him, observing the western section of Kashuri through a spyglass.

"Near the fireworks district, Master." She handed him the spyglass, Zed immediately turning toward the west and the district. He searched for a second until he spotted her, a masked face he knew all too well.

"Sir, does this mean the Kinkou have found us?"

"No. She isn't with them anymore, but she has direct ties with Shen and has impeded our progress on several key occasions. She is a far more pressing matter as her here will put the entire operation at great risk." Zed observed the Rogue Assassin wandering through the fireworks district, searching for any signs of his Order. He spotted another sight, however, one that alarmed him even more.

"What is _she_ doing here?"

"Who, Master?"

"The Defiant Blade."

"What? Irelia Xan herself?"

"Moreover, who are the other two? The fish vastaya and the man in the armor?"

"Can you stop doing that? I don't think I can keep on chasing you this way." Onoki clanked up to them in her armor, the other acolyte following closely.

"Onoki, we have a few problems." He said a deadly low tone.

"What problems?" He merely handed her the spyglass, pointing her to the fireworks district.

"Where? I don't see- Oh… Oh, shit…"

"Put everyone on high alert. I want them removed from this city… in any way necessary. They cannot hinder our operation." Zed put his mask on, straightening himself up, making the sun behind him almost cover the entire city in his shadow. The factory was rather tall.

"On high alert? For the little assassin?"

"And for Irelia Xan."

"What- Her?! Here?! Well… this is gonna be an interesting day…" Onoki unsheathed her dual katanas eagerly.

"How long until Kayn gets here?"

"A few hours, Master."

"Good. We need all the help we can get. You have your orders, acolytes. Move out." He swiped his hand, the other two hurriedly jumping off the roof and landing gracefully, running off to warn every single Order member in the city. Zed put his metal mask on, the red sparks in his eyes bursting into small flames as he donned it and shadow-stepped away, Onoki following his trail with zeal.

A dancer turned liberator with an impossible mission.

A rogue assassin with selfless ideals.

A Demacian knight seeking to return home.

A Marai Tidecaller searching for a way to save her people.

A human-vastaya hybrid with a mean streak.

A disgraced wind warrior desiring a stable road in life.

A nine-tailed fox searching for her heritage.

A pariah ninja and his deadly convictions.

An apprentice seeking to conquer a demon and his master's approval.

The pieces were all in place, their roads converged and now, it was Ionia's turn to start the game of fate.

And it would begin with a grand spectacle in the Iron City of Kashuri.


	10. Ionia - Showdown in Kashuri

**Ionia: Part III – Showdown in Kashuri**

Yelling, haggling, explosions and general disorientation were the tricks of the trade in Kashuri's Fireworks District. One pass-by would make one think that noise has completely replaced the breathable air, given there was an explosion of some sort every two seconds, followed by screams of either joy, surprise, fear or annoyance, the former two more prevalent than the latter. The fireworks themselves came in all shapes, sizes, colors and magnitude, much like the people of the land and city that made them. The crowds flowed like rivers through the streets and alleys, all seeking their own needs and wants, the Iron City more than capable of fulfilling them with its innovations and ambitions. Through the flow, a group of four wandered almost aimlessly, were it not for their self-appointed assassin guide.

"We're lost, aren't we? Come on, Akali, just admit it." Nami was having a hard time believing the assassin's statement of knowledge about the city's streets.

"Kashuri's a large city, fishy. Takes a while to get around, y'know?" Akali was strangely patient with her new vastaya friend, although having trudged through Kashuri's streets and alleyways gave her thicker skin when it came to dealing with questions like these.

"Well… I can still complain, right?" Nami was trying to desperately scratch an itch on her soul.

"Sure, go ahead. I can turn you off mentally, so don't worry about it." Akali just continued onward, unabated by Nami and eyes open for any suspicious-looking characters or activity.

"So that's how you ignore people all the time, huh?" Irelia made the assumption about the assassin.

"Eh, not _all_ the time. Just most of the time."

"Right. So, where are we and where are we heading to?"

"We're in the outskirts of the Fireworks District. Charming place, huh? Our stop is a small bar just near the center of the district. It's a cheap, but cozy and decent place. We won't be bothered by most of the patrons and my contact told me to meet him there." Akali picked up the pace, spurring the others to follow it as well.

"What contact?"

"You might remember him from the battle. The wind warrior from Souma's school."

"Him? What was his name…? Yasuo, I think?"

"That's the name he goes by these days. I don't think he tells anyone his real name. Maybe he doesn't remember it. Eh, it matters not. What does matter is that he's willing to help us once again." Akali lead the group into the main street, a long and wide passage littered with shops on both sides. The river of people flooded and bellowed throughout, filling both shop and themselves with valuables and commodities of all kinds. Wooden street signs marked each establishment, letting their customers know where they stepped and what was waiting for them inside. The dancer and the assassin blended in quite nicely with the crowds, but the knight in shining armor and the floating fishwoman not so much.

"You two stand out like snowmen on a summer beach." Akali noticed.

"Why do you say that?" Nami asked.

"First off, we'll be easily spotted by our enemies. Second, Kashuri isn't very welcoming to vastaya."

"Why not?"

"Well, I didn't mention this to you two, but there's an ongoing vastaya uprising in the northern and northeastern parts of Ionia. At first, it was nothing more than rumors, but overtime it became a fire that engulfed at least a quarter of the continent. Since then, there have been guerrilla attacks throughout the provinces, specifically targeting large settlements with magical augments in their trades." Akali gave a brief exposition of the vastaya rebellion.

"And, since Kashuri has a large number of quinlons that sap magic from the surrounding environment…" Garen connected the dots for the Marai and himself.

"Oh… Well, will it be a problem? I don't wanna give people the wrong impression, but I'm starting to feel like that's the case everywhere I go. I also don't wanna cause trouble for you guys. You're ones of the few to keep open minds about me, even rescuing me without any strings attached." She looked down, slowing her pace all of a sudden.

"I feel like I'm just weighing us down-"

"Not another word further." Garen interrupted her, grabbing her attention.

"We're helping you not just because we want to, but also because it is the right thing to do. You've come to our land seeking aid on a noble quest. What does it say about us if we were to deny someone like you?" Irelia picked up where the knight started, knowing what his words would be.

"Back at the temple, you pulled your own weight, fishy. Where'd that confidence get to now?" Akali gave her a simple reminder.

"I know, but back then I thought I'd go my own way, never to bother you all again. My quest is a difficult one, more so for the people I've travelled and still travel with. I don't know if I can choose between helping others and doing what I must to save my home." Nami admitted, giving off an aura of uncertainty. She had helped many humans on her journey to Ionia, but had also hindered many others as well. Realizing that not all would accept her help, she moved onward as to not be of further harm. As a Tidecaller, she knew best of all how fast the tides could change and how unpredictable the currents of the world were, be they watery or emotional ones. Deep down, she hoped all would turn out for the best, but Runeterra's vagaries woke her up from that dream with a slap to the face. Before the thoughts could go any further, however, she heard a light laugh, looking up to find Garen chuckling. Irelia joined him with her own giggling while Akali simply shook her head with a smile.

"Who's to say you can't do both?" Garen began.

"There are people who aren't just looking out for themselves out there. You happened upon such with us." Irelia's giggles cleared up into a smile.

"No matter what, Nami, we'll look out for you. It's what we fight for. It's what we live for. It's what we have chosen." Akali finished their encouragement.

"Come on. Despite us being a group, we still got a lot of work ahead of us. Shall we?" Garen extended his hand toward the Marai, who was reinvigorated by their support.

"Yeah. Let's go, Team Justice!" Nami grabbed the knight's hand, enthusiasm getting the better of her in the moment.

"Oh, for the love of- don't encourage him, please." Irelia groaned.

"Too late. One down, two to go. Justice always prevails in the end!" Garen pumped his fist in victory.

"Ugh… Nami, why'd you have to go and ruin a perfectly good setup for the day?" Akali turned around and continued with a more uninspired trek down the street.

"Oh, come on! It's not that bad. His pep is growing on me. Give it time and an open mind and I'm sure he'll grow on you two as well." Nami raised her palm up to Garen, who intercepted it in another high-five.

"Yeah, like a fungus on my ass. Eh, let's just go. We're early, but I prefer to be there anyway, at least to get Thunder to shut up and both of you to actually pay full attention." Akali continued through the crowds, following the large street to a street sign.

"That's it. The Xiao Guai bar and teahouse. Hopefully he hasn't gotten in a fight." Akali sharpened her guard, ready to get in a fight. The wind warrior known as Yasuo was a wanted criminal in some parts of Ionia, although recently some of those bounties have been lifted. Now, though, groups like the Brotherhood and the Order targeted him more out of him being a nuisance to their plans rather than presenting a legitimate long-term threat. Despite him cutting down every single assassin, they still persisted, hoping to find a weak spot or a moment when his guard was down. None of them succeeded.

"Why would he? He seemed a calm person when last I saw him." Irelia made the assumption.

"He is, but his past… not so much. While he settled some of his debts, the Council still refuses to acknowledge him as a true warrior of Souma's school and a rightful citizen of Ionia or any of her provinces. I don't understand why, though. Maybe they still haven't forgiven him for killing their assassins… or maybe someone on the Council wants him dead. I'll get to the truth of the matter eventually. Right now, though, we got bigger problems ahead and the longer we-" Akali began speculating, but dropped them upon spotting the wind warrior in question exiting the bar in a controlled speed. She motioned the party to stop and be on alert. The knight, dancer and Tidecaller obeyed, stealthily readying their weapons and magic, Garen unlocking the mechanism on his pommel just enough for a quick draw, Nami silently muttering incantations for her staff and Irelia splitting her crest but keeping the shards from flying off. They slowly began trailing the wind warrior, who himself was following the nine-tailed creature through the crowds. The wind blew again; it was a warm breeze with a soothing caress across his face. He sensed a welcoming omen… just as the wind turned cool. Both omens, one of good fortune and one of ill fate now given, he picked up the pace, his guard fully up. He didn't have a very good reason to follow the vastaya, but then again he never did invest much time or attention to reason. He gripped his sword and went onward, shadowing his target.

The nine-tailed vastaya's senses were a bit on the fritz, given the crowded area she was in. Sensing emotions was a power she was born with and developed, but a place this saturated with them threw her off slightly. Her pace accelerated, not wanting to stay in this place any longer than she had to. Her wanderings led her to Kashuri, a dreadful place for her kind and not just because of the quinlons. The numerous 'No vastaya allowed' signs on a few of the shops and bars she passed through made her feel both disgusted and disheartened; Kashuri was supposed to be a place for innovation, yet it was held back by a prejudice looming over it. She wasn't blind, though. The vastaya rebellion didn't bother to even _think_ making things easier for both sides. It was one of the reasons she didn't join when asked. The Lhotlan woman with the feather knives didn't seem to appreciate that very much, given how she grazed her cheek with one as a warning for the next meeting. The 'with us or against us' attitude seemed to permeate across Ionia after the balance had been broken, although she had sensed simmers inside some its denizens' souls even before the invasion. Whatever the case, it wasn't going away anytime soon.

Sometimes, she wondered if there was any actual difference between humans and vastaya. Not only did it throw her goals off track, but also made her doubt her future; if there was no difference between their ways of life, what was the point of her quest?

She had always felt like she didn't belong on either side, part of her not wanting to abandon the magic inside her while the other couldn't form a lasting and meaningful connection because of it. Her powers gave her an edge when dealing with either species but also limited her interactions with them. Overtime, she gained greater knowledge, understanding and self-control… that she had no use for outside of combat and killing, two things she preferred _not_ to do unless they were her last resort.

Nevertheless, she couldn't give up. There had to be a place in this vast world for her, in Ionia or outside of it. She would find it… and the family she longed for.

All of these thoughts distracted her from noticing the gaudy entrance to a large dive bar she arrived at. She deplored places like these; customers in here tended to look at her like a piece of meat dangling from a low edge, be they human or vastaya. Times like those made her slightly deplore her alluring physical form. She found uses for it, though, and would not change it. At least that's what she told herself. The truth was far more depressing, but she shelved the thought as she entered through the sliding doors, careful not to attract the attention of the bouncers. The inside was overbearing; both chairs and sitting pillows were strewn about in an ordered chaos, their occupants busy inebriating themselves on both food and drink while saturating the air with a bittersweet mixture of pleasure, relief, despair and tension. The overall feeling was pleasant, though. Not too rough but not too stressed either.

She saw an empty seat on the corner of the counter, quickly walking toward it as not to have such a prime location taken. Her cloak felt stuffy compounded with the atmosphere of the bar, prompting to take it off. Once it was off, many eyes inevitably fell on her, curiosity mixing with desire with a seasoning of lust on top. It all turned to wariness as the dropped cloak revealed her nine tails, eventually turning back to curiosity… and greed. The emotions weren't strong but the fox vastaya knew better than to disregard them and kept her guard up.

"What'll it be, love? Don't worry. We serve vastaya here. Not on a barbecue, though, don't you worry. Hah!" The bartender, a middle-aged yet grizzled and deep-voiced man joked. She felt worry from him, both for her and his own establishment, but also levity. People like him, unnoticed by the happenings and grand troubles of Runeterra, were a blessing to her.

"Uhm… Chamomile tea with moon hyacinth, if you have it." The vastaya asked.

"Coming up. Anything to eat?"

"Huh?" It was then that she noticed the barbecue and the delicious aromas coming from a door behind his counter. She took one more look around; the bar was actually half bar and half restaurant, with colorful drapes of many animals on the wall hangers and lit lamps across the entire establishment. Strange… it didn't seem like a nice place from the outside.

"Ma'am?"

"Oh! Uh, no. Just the tea." The fox's ears perked up in surprise as she confirmed her order. The bartender just nodded with a smile. As he left, she looked around the place, taking in the people and their emotions. On the surface they all seemed simple, but once she got accustomed to their aura, she felt what dwelled beneath the greed, desire and anger; anxiety, fear, scorn and loathing but also happiness, hope, ardor and love. Despite the hardship, excitement, caprice, craziness and oddity, all they wanted was to find their way in life, something she related to on the deepest level. She didn't know where she came from or who her family or clan was, after all. All she had of her past were two magnificent gems and a wish to discover it. The task was difficult, however, as all of Ionia held a strong belief that the past should be respected and left alone, making gathering information about the subject a bit difficult. If her tribe had disappeared, they certainly didn't wish to be found.

So why her? What made her so… unwanted?

"Oi. Fox-tails." Her attention was grabbed by a smooth voice, belonging to a young man with greased-up hair and a smug smirk.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" And he was flanked by a partner, another young man with a rougher voice, black hair and an almost identical smirk to his cohort.

"Drinking tea. Resting." She tried to be as short as possible.

"A vastaya can afford this place? Wow. You must be a lot more special than you look." The greaser replied.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.

"You gotta have a lot of gold on you to come here. Where'd a gal like you get it, eh?" The dark-hair's implying grin sent shivers down her tails.

"Crab farming." She replied; it was only one of the more honest job she had to take while travelling, but candid coin like that wasn't enough, so she took some more unscrupulous jobs, usually involving having to steal from someone, a skill she developed since childhood.

"Right… A rather well-paid job." They weren't convinced.

"It's ok, hun. We don't mind what you do. In fact…" And there it was. Next was the arm around her.

"We might have a few propositions for you… for the right price, of course." The greaser finished for his partner. Too many years on the road, too many encounters like this… she was tired.

"Can I ask you something? Both of you? It's neither an implication nor rhetoric. It's just a question." Something inside her snapped, but she managed to remain polite.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"Do you two _really _have nothing better to do?" She faced both of them with an almost pitying look. Runeterra still had people like these. She would always have people like these, humans and vastaya that waste their years on pleasure and enjoyment only to find they have nothing going for them without them. Still, as much as she understood, she didn't approve, especially since she was their target most of the time.

"Whaddaya mean?" As oblivious as the rest. The pity increased, but so did the exasperation. From behind the counter, the bartender spotted the fox vastaya's commotion and waved toward the upper section of the restaurant.

"What I mean is do you two have no better business than to heckle a lady who's just trying to drink her tea and get on with her day? Instead of seeing a dangling piece of meat, why don't you two just try and wake up? There are a _lot_ of better standings than where you currently are, two clanless and gangless thugs trying to make it big." She surprised the two, given how they were careful in concealing that fact. All gang members belonging to one faction or another always had a telltale sign, but freelancers were forced to conceal those facts, playing off the fact that other gangers would conceal their allegiances in order to blend in or do their business quietly. The underworld was harsher and more merciless than the topside, after all.

"Whoa, she's got bite, hasn't she, Rishu?" The greaser started, but the fox interrupted.

"My teeth are sharper than most, but I've got more than bite." At the end of her threat, she summoned a glowing magical sphere, just large enough for the palm of her lithe hand.

"Whoa, what the-"

"One last warning. Leave me be and go away to live out your lives… or die. Not much after the second one for you two, I'm afraid." The nine-tailed vastaya warned them, making the sphere glow a bit brighter. The two looked at each other and… cackled, almost greedily.

"Well, isn't that convenient." The greaser pulled out his sabre.

"I love it when they think they can take us both on alone, Kreef." The dark-haired man deployed a set of wrist-mounted swords, both of them standing back to back. The vastaya tensed up, her sphere ready to flare out; there was no way out but to fight. She hoped no one innocent would get caught up in their battle, but given where she was there was lot of room for doubt of both innocence and less collateral damage. She had to try to minimize it, though.

…How else could she atone for everything in her past?

"Gentlemen."

Before anything could start, a young, smooth and deep voice called out to the two thugs, making both them and the fox turn. It came from a large vastaya-human hybrid.

"I'm gonna have to ask you to leave the lady alone, sit down and grab a drink or a bite to eat. It tends to cool heads, trust me." Sett, towering over all of them, politely asked the men to rescind.

"Back off, pal. Those tails are probably a rarity and the more we cut off-" The greaser began, but was stopped by his partner having a frightened look on his face.

"Kreef, shut up! It's him." The dark-hair retracted his swords immediately after spotting Sett.

"Who? Look, bro, I don't care who he is. We have a fortune on our hands here and I'm sure we can plow through him. Although it'd take a while seeing as how tall he is." Kreef boasted. His partner, the bartender and the people witnessing the commotion all went eerily silent, all of them except the fox vastaya having a terrified look on their faces.

"What?" Kreef looked around, seeing his partner slowly back away, as he got an anxious feeling which was further enforced by the looming shadow behind him.

"Buddy, I'm gonna be direct and polite about the situation you're in, seeing as how you can't grasp your surroundings without your partner over there. Right now you're starting a row in _my_ establishment, which not only I have a problem with but also my customers do. Next, you're bothering a person that has clearly dealt with insults, distractions and rudeness far more severe than yours. Be thankful she hasn't turned you into a floor stain and yes, I know you're not aware of how utterly screwed both you and your partner are if you chose to fight her so I'm choosing to do you a favor and warn you. Finally, and this is really the most important part, my **vastayan mother** is here, enjoying herself in a city that has little to no consideration for her kind or a freak like me. She is going to continue to do so beside the son she loves, which two morons had the audacity to distract him with _pointless_ nuisances. All of that being said, both of you now have two choices; sit down and don't bother my customers again or leave. The latter part you can do either alive or dead. Which is it gonna be?" Sett composedly explained everything, patiently awaiting their response. Deep down, he itched for a fight, but his mother waited for him, thinking he was greeting a friend, another of the many excuses he gave her. The thugs looked at each other and then to Sett.

"Apologies, mister Sett. Won't happen again, sir. With your permission…" Rishu spoke and grabbed his partner who looked like he soiled his pants and pointed toward the exit.

"Get out of my bar." Those five words signaled their much-desired chance at life, the thugs bolting out of the restaurant with Kreef tripping at the exit.

"You ok, miss?" Sett turned to the fox vastaya, who sized him up. He was attractive, at least physically, but his emotions were masked, like he was used to lying and not getting what he wanted only to cover it up with false desire and satisfaction. It was honestly kind of tragic for her, but underneath it, she found strength… from a love so strong that almost nothing could break.

"I'm fine. Thanks. I would've preferred not to kill them and you just gave me that opportunity." The fox vastaya expressed her gratitude. She was strangely curious about the half-beast and how he came to exist.

"Same here. Bad for business. Anyways, I won't bother you further. Enjoy yourself, miss." With a farewell snap, he turned and left, the fox vastaya staring at his back. With her tea arrived in the nick of time, she decided not to scratch her nosy itch, irritating as it was. Something told her that today's event was only the start, prompting her to enjoy the aroma and taste of chamomile while she could. The moon hyacinth seasoning that was supposed to add to the smoothness now only served to take an unseen edge off.

* * *

The swordsman known as Yasuo stood a few steps away outside the entrance of the establishment the fox wandered in, carefully studying the place. Upon first look, it looked like a dive bar, but the customers going in and out were high-class and well-dressed, which was odd. Nobody seemed to notice, but his hunch that they already did and were either told to keep quiet or did so as an unspoken rule perked up, confident it was on the spot. He blended in, careful not to stand out too much but also not to let his guard down. Something was trailing him… or rather, a lot of somethings. Four of them, twenty feet behind. One large and in front, the other three nimble and smaller behind the large one. They were closing in and yet the wind didn't warn him.

'Already left me… bastard…' Despite his efforts, he couldn't quite fully place the blame on the ficklest ally on Runeterra. It was its nature and his audacity thinking he could bring it on his side that brought this volatile partnership. He gripped the handle on his sword, ready to do what he was trained to do and what he did best. Ten feet, still the same formation. He could make out a vastaya, her faint traces of magic unmistakable even among the other three. The large one was a normal person, untouched by magic. He was no doubt the first to go in. Five feet, within striking range. He turned his head just enough to aim, drawing his sword with lightning speed... and stopped just barely of swiping at the man's head after seeing who he was with. The large one's reflexes and shoulder movement told him the strike would only be intercepted, a fact he kept to himself.

"Whoa. Easy, Yas. Bit on edge today, huh?" Akali greeted her contact in a brash manner. Yasuo sheathed his sword, already slightly annoyed by the assassin's attitude.

"Keep going like this and one of these days, someone is gonna take that steam-filled head of yours off of your shoulders." He greeted her in his own manner, giving her a light handshake.

"You preaching 'cause you wanna be a saint or it is built in? Either way, practice your own sermons and watch your back." Akali sheathed her kunai as well.

"I always do. I see you finally decided to bring company with you." He turned to the Marai and the knight.

"Name's Yasuo. Warrior of the School of the Wind, currently jobless and wandering. A pleasure." He made a small bow.

"Nami. Tidecaller of the Marai and on a quest for them." Nami introduced herself.

"Marai? That your clan?" He asked.

"Yes, a tribe hailing from beneath Targon's shores."

"I see. Long way from home, huh?"

"Yep… but I carry its hope with me, so it's not that far off in my mind."

"Heh. Good answer. And who are you?" He turned to the knight.

"Garen Crownguard. Leader of Demacia's Dauntless Vanguard and currently a guest in Ionia seeking to return home." Garen bowed in return.

"Demacia? Long way from home, as well."

"So I'm told."

"Well, here's to both of you returning where you belong in one piece." Yasuo grabbed a wooden bottle from his belt and took a sip from it.

"Still drinking?" Irelia asked with a bit of disappointment. Yasuo almost did a spit take but kept it in, playing it off as if knowing she'd survive her capture. He had heard about it, but couldn't do anything at the time, much like all parties involved.

"Yep. What about you? Still trying to inspire folks to fight?"

"Yep." She seemed more confident than when last they met, almost reinvigorated.

"Even after what happened?" He wanted to plant a little seed of healthy doubt.

"Even more." No fertile soil for that to grow, it seemed.

"Heh. Good to have you back, Irelia Xan." He was still glad to see her safe and sound.

"Good to see you alive and well, Yasuo." She bowed. Despite his demeanor, he meant only the best for Ionia. His way of achieving it was simply different from the rest of theirs.

"So… If you've assembled a full crew, little dragon, it means something big is gonna go down right here in one of Ionia's loudest places. Hopefully it doesn't take everything along. I kind of like the tea here… and that little carving shop. No appreciation for the classics these days." Yasuo took another sip from the bottle.

"Awwww, the tired old man needs sleep." Akali grinned.

"Don't sass me, 'young'n'. This 'old man' can still throw down with the best of 'em and I only have four gray hairs at most. Now, I believe you three came here on an urgent mission." Yasuo took one last sip and put his bottle on his belt, eyeing the entrance to the bar.

"We have… which kinda makes me wonder why you suddenly took off without waiting for us. Is something up?" Akali asked, hand on her kama.

"I followed someone to this place. It was some sort of vastaya, I think. Nine-tailed, didn't show their face and in a serious hurry. At first I didn't think much of it, but something told me to take it on faith, so here I am." He didn't take his eyes off the guards, sizing them up carefully and the people entering and leaving.

"Let me guess. You 'followed the wind'." Akali grinned again.

"Told you not to sass me. And what's gotten you so worked up that you had to bring a full crew, including two outsiders, on this job?" Yasuo wanted answers from her as much she wanted them from him.

"This." She pulled out the schematic, showing it to Yasuo who inspected it confusedly.

"What… is it? Looks like a foreign weapon of some sort."

"It's called a cannon. Long range. The Order of Shadows is constructing it. We need to stop it." Akali laid out the basics of their mission. Usually, they were all Yasuo cared about, but his expression carried a few more questions this time around.

"What's wrong?" Akali picked up on it.

"The Order is using foreign weapons now? Odd, don't you think?" He asked a question that's been sitting in the back of her mind for some time now. It was a wonder it hadn't even come close to the front, let alone pass her lips.

"Honestly, it slipped my mind. All I care about is stopping them from causing more chaos." Akali just shrugged the truth out.

"If you think they're the only ones responsible for the chaos, you really need your eyes checked." Yasuo chuckled.

"Ah, he _gives _me sass now. Y'know, I don't really like it when others do it to me."

"There's a surprise." Irelia joined in, eyeing the entrance as well.

"So, we're going in there?" She asked.

"Wait. Yasuo, you're sure this person's connected to our mission? If it's just a gut feeling, we might not have time to-" Akali wanted to reason, but Yasuo stopped her.

"It is a gut feeling, but you're free to continue on your own. Before that, however, let me tell you what I've found before any of this." Yasuo turned to her.

"Now, I'm sure you are aware of what the Order stands for, but those three need clarification." Yasuo began, feeling the need to explain.

"Militarization and full control of Ionia. I got the gist of it, Yasuo, trust me." Irelia's voice was tinted with anger.

"But what you don't have a gist of is _how_ they plan on doing it. The first part was bolstering their ranks. Their leader has dramatically stepped up the Order's influence. They now have at least one base in every province with a considerable agent presence everywhere else. Second were the warnings; high-class assassinations against Noxian spies, infiltrators and remnants across the continent." Yasuo took out his bottle again, a trait which Irelia visibly frowned upon.

"Must you drink now? You might end up having to fight today." She chided him or at least, tried to.

"I always end up fighting. Sake just helps me through it… and the rest of my day." Yasuo veered off, as drinking was rather personal to him.

"Yo people. The mission?" Akali got them back on topic.

"Right. Sorry. Where was I…? The assassinations were carried out against anyone with Noxian heritage. I know because… well… they tried killing someone I know who is from Noxus. When I arrived there on a visit, I had found four bodies around her and two more in the fields she works. Don't worry, though. She was fine and not trying to do harm or fight unless provoked. Last I heard from her, though, she decided to embark through Navori and to the Noxus-controlled ports. No telling why or where she is now." Yasuo recounted a recent event. Although she managed to fend off the assassins without any harm to her or her new family, his friend from Noxus disappeared without a trace soon after. Part of him hoped she was alright while another knew she could take care of herself.

"You… have a _Noxian_ friend?" Irelia's voice slightly lowered, filling up the anger bar a bit more. The other four picked up on this, tension slowly rising between them.

"She's not like the rest, Irelia. She has had enough of the fighting-"

"I don't care." Her crest split, putting everyone on alert, a few bystanders even jumping away in fear. Irelia, however, looked like a territorial tiger spotting a trespasser. Everyone stood on edge, especially Yasuo, who carefully and quietly watched for any sudden twitches in her blades. Irelia came to, however, looking around herself and assuming self-control once again.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out. It's not your fault." She apologized.

"It's fine. No harm done. At least, not from you. In fact, it's both understandable and agreeable." Yasuo understood. He knew the story about her family, as did most of Ionia. There was no reason to ask of her to forgive everything Noxus had done. He couldn't, either.

"Still, I'm sidetracking us. You were saying about the Order's targets?"

"Right. The other messages are Council ties. No direct attacks against the Council of Elders itself, but given their track record and their methods…"

"They're probing for weakness and punching holes in the Council's defenses. Zed is a lot of things, but careless isn't one of them. He's planning multiple things at once, one primary plot and all others reinforcing it." Akali shared what she knew on their adversary.

"And if Zed has indeed gotten involved in making foreign weapons for his own gains, we can be sure that once the holes have been punched, the fist comes through without any sort of armor to stop it. Our enemies are playing a long game… and gaining the upper hand, which brings us to Step Three; manufacturing that." Yasuo pointed to the blueprints.

"One of Zed's old contacts was a former Council member called Gao Saori. Gao knew Kusho, the previous leader of the Kinkou and the former Eye of Twilight. Unlike Kusho, Gao was aggressive, to put it mildly. Once the invaders struck, he called for complete counter-attack and even went as far as trying to petition the Council to build a fleet and take the fight to Noxus across the ocean. It earned him nothing but scorn and pain, seeing as how he got his Council seat revoked and kicked out back to his home… which was right here in the Iron City." Yasuo took another sip after finishing.

"What? Wait, why would he call for an attack? Isn't that premature for a Council Elder, a keeper of harmony?" Akali asked, not knowing much about this as it was a bit before her time in the field and on the job.

"When the invaders landed on the southwestern coast, his wife was visiting one of the villages there. You might have heard of it. Its name was Wuju." Yasuo looked into his bottle with a solemn expression.

"Wuju… the site of a toxic massacre. Truly a symbol of the lengths Noxus will go to in order to achieve victory." Irelia recounted of one of the most tragic events of the war.

"And, as if that wasn't the only tragedy, his daughter who was no more than two years old at the time, grew up sharing her father's hatred. She's now the head of Kashuri's security forces and a monster with a sword. I daresay she's even a match for me." Yasuo continued, remembering the young girl's katana skills and his encounter with her the first time he came to Kashuri. He put off the story as they had more pressing matters at hand.

"Still, to put all of Ionia and his daughter at risk for a personal vendetta… seems a little stupid, especially for an Elder." Akali spoke, keeping one eye on their surroundings. Getting ambushed in the middle of an important conversation was the last thing she needed.

"Elders are still human and thus still prone to flawed judgment and personal errors. It's reprehensible, but understandable. That being said, the man Gao was before his wife died is now dead along with her. The man calling for war put the dagger to the Elder's throat and slit it, his little girl following along thinking that same man is still her father. Now we're left to deal with the consequences of those choices." Yasuo put his bottle away and grabbed the blueprint.

"One of which is this. This weapon could give Zed and his Order a crucial advantage, seeing as how Ionia is dominated by traditionalists. Moreover, it would strike fear into those not of either side, most likely giving him more followers and more power. From there on, I'd say his plan is to gradually but surely take control of the provinces, no matter the cost or resistance. In short, it's 'ride or die' for them now. All of us for that matter, too." He finished the exposition of Ionia's current and more pressing problems, looking to all of them for answers.

"Which means we need to locate the source of the weapon's production and terminate it." Akali gripped one of her kunai with a purpose.

"Getting that info will be tricky, though. We either find someone from the underground that knows their way around and won't ask for a lot in return or capture one of the Order's goons, preferably a weak-willed one. Voting for the latter in case anyone asks." She flipped it eagerly, ready to properly get to work this time.

"Whoa, hold on. We just got here. I really think it's too early for us to start causing trouble and paint ourselves a target on our heads. Trust me, I would know. We really should lay low for a while, try to get to know the city, its layout and its people. Our chance of getting caught or getting a bad case of dead will be a bit lower." Nami found her voice and directed it toward reason, which Irelia and Garen nodded to.

"Good idea. It will give us time to formulate a plan should anything happen." Irelia, though cautious, was eager to get to work.

"We should get a few rooms somewhere near their particular operating area; we need the space to move without drawing too much attention to ourselves. Any ideas, Yasuo?" Garen asked, his tactical mind finding its way through to his mouth.

"You're in luck. I've spotted a lot of members circling around the Fireworks District, particularly the dives. We can find a room at the Shady Spring, a quaint and traditional inn near the main street. I'm guessing you already have something in mind?" Yasuo knew the look Garen gave, a focused and determined gaze cast towards the bar's entrance.

"I have a foundation, but I need information in order to build a plan. Will you take us to this inn?"

"I guess I can put off the wind's call on hold for now. Follow me… and watch our backs." Yasuo took the lead, the four travellers following closely behind, carefully concealing their presence in the crowds from any would-be spies.

* * *

The bar was becoming louder, something the fox was starting to deplore. She loved the wilds and the untamed plains, but something inside her wanted the company of a fellow, maybe even a friend. Her magic and particular set of powers made that difficult, however, given that she tended to sap the life out of whomever she touched. It had its uses… or so she told herself. She had been doing a lot of that lately.

Humans were odd to her, their volatile and unrefined emotions too often getting the better of them. It was this innate capriciousness that allowed her an easy entry into their deepest parts, but time and again she was appalled by what she saw. Too many of them were base, for lack of a better word. They ran on nothing but instinct and raw adrenaline, much like the animals they professed they were above or revered. Some, however, were struggling against it, trying to better themselves and purge this dark element out of their cores forever. None succeeded, not even with her help. In fact, she often thought she hindered the process simply by existing near them. Her shape, her powers, her gaze… they were distracting, too much so. They had killed many, some she cared deeply about and hurt others a dozen times more. Overtime and with exposure to them, she realized however that she was not so different from them. Vastaya just looked and fed differently, but when it came to motives, morals, logic and emotions, they were on nearly the same level as humans; same violence, same responses to loss, same love…

She mulled over her tea, every sip tasting a little bit blander than the last despite the hyacinth's aroma. She tried savoring them more and more, but it felt forced, not the enjoyment it should've been. Taking a glance around, the vastaya took in the emotions of the vast room; greed, jealousy, spite, anger, desire, pride, desperation, joy, relief, hope, happiness… as varied as a rainbow. There was no good or bad in any one of them. Just humanity in its purest form. She allowed herself a brief moment to experience the simplicity of it, something she often dreamt of having. The next sip was a little tasteful, bringing a sigh of relief and slightly raising her mouth's corners.

From above the bar, Sett sat in the luxury lounge along with other high profile customers; many of them were small business owners that did underground work on the side, crime bosses from the local districts and a few aspiring fighters here and there. The highest profile one, however, sat right next to him, enjoying herself with the scrumptious barbecue in front of her and her son beside her. His people were carefully positioned as to observe but not interfere or arouse suspicion, cleverly stoic under the guise of security personnel. Anything to make his mother's stay as comfortable as possible. He had never seen her smile this much since coming here, making him want to keep the moment going as much as possible. He wasn't very good at hiding it seeing as how she noticed and beamed even brighter.

"Told ya you'd like the food, ma." He was at least proud to have done something that made her genuinely happy without lying or twisting the truth about it.

"It's delicious, sweetie. It's been a while since we had a large meal." His mother swallowed a large chunk, letting her animal side out a tad.

"You mean ever since dad left." Sett's scorn was practically dripping from his mouth with every word in that sentence.

"Oh hush. Bringing him up only riles you out further and does away with your complexion and I'll not have my baby boy ruin himself again, not even through improper health care, both mental and physical. I know the work you do might be a bit physical, but construction and farming are honest labors, not to mention _very_ much needed after the war." The mother spoke the truth. Sett technically did build something… an underground criminal empire. Although the foundation was already there, drop by drop of blood, sweat and alcohol, he established the underground fight scene with every fight he dripped those liquids in. Back then, he just wanted to find his runaway father and smash his teeth in. Nowadays it was just a side business; mom was always the top priority. The fights were second.

"Not gonna change how I feel about him, ma." The words were out before he could sugarcoat them. To his surprise, his mother had no reprimand.

"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to let that whole thing go. He's not here anymore. I've accepted that and you should too. Chasing after him is only going to bring us pain. I'll be damned, however, if I ruin the one good thing to ever come out of that entire mess." Her claws found her way to her son's cheek, her caress warm and gentle despite the sharp nails. It was one of the many things he idolized her for; the self-control she had over her own body and mind. He himself had far more trouble with that, not to mention the self-loathing that came with it. He wanted to shunt some of that intemperance to his absentee father, but the more he wished to compare himself to him, the more he kept remembering he was partly like him; selfish, attention-seeking, violent and self-centered.

Self. He was starting to hate that word and everything it reminded him of.

At least, until the light in his mother's eyes fell on his.

"You're a good son, Settrigh." She spoke, the warmth of her palm more than conveying her thoughts on the matter.

"But I think it's high time you start trying to be a good _man_. Not just for your family, but for you as well. Master that and the whole of Ionia- no, the whole of Runeterra will acknowledge you despite your heritage. Trust me. It won't have much of a choice." With that last encouragement, she went back to her meal, knowing that her son would heed her words.

"I, uh… Thanks, mom."

"You're welcome, sweetie. Now then, let's not keep the food waiting. You need a lot of it after all that work you did today." She went back to her miso. Sett just popped a pork rind in his mouth with a grin.

"What can I say? Those workers needed help." He spoke proudly.

'The rather large spare change from their chief architect also didn't hurt.' He kept that one to himself.

"Look at you. Already on your way to becoming a pillar of this nation. First the farms, then the orphanage and now building Ionia's future block by block and stone by stone. Still, we all have a long road ahead of us." She plopped a large spoonful of soup in her mouth.

"I know. Thank the gods I'm not alone, though. I need you by my side, ma."

"I know, but your friends need you more. By the way, who did you say you were meeting downstairs?" She got dangerously curious.

"Oh, just a fellow crab farmer. She was just passing by and uh… I thought I might say hi, see how she's doing nowadays." He was getting better at lying, at least.

"Mmmm, those delicious yellow-shells… Well, at least you're making mor- Wait…" His mother's face lit up in a smug and enthusiastic grin.

"'**She**', huh?" It was too late, but Sett wasn't known for giving up fights of any kind.

"Oh no. No no no noooo- Ma. Ma, don't go there-"

"What's her name? Is she pretty? Is she single? Where does she live? What does she do for a living?" Unfortunately for him, his mother pushed that fact to its limit and the topic he tripped into was a rather weak spot for him and a strong one for mom.

"Ma!"

"Sorry, darling. Got a bit carried away. Still, I want the answers. In fact, I want to hear it from her."

"What!? No, ma she's- she's busy, alright? We'd just be bothering her. Besides, she's got somewhere to be. We shouldn't be heckling-" Sett tried to avert yet another embarrassing discussion about finding a partner, but stopped short when he noticed his mother missing from her seat and already on her way down the stairs and into the crowds.

"Oh come on, ma!" He got up dashing after her while the rest of his guards in disguise snickered under their breaths. He caught up to her at the edge of the bottom of the stairs, mom stumped in place as she didn't know which of customers she was looking for.

"Ma, just go back up and sit down. I don't think she wants company right now." He hated it when she got like this. Sure, he understood; not only were their species endangered but she also wanted a little happiness in her son's life.

"Nope. I want to meet her, at least to see who my son is friends with." She was looking over the crowds, trying to find someone sticking out.

"Mom, I really don't think she-"

"I'm meeting her. Period." No use arguing. Might as well see if the fox wanted to talk. He suddenly remembered her being a little curious and decided to draw that card, however low it was. He didn't have a strong hand against his mother. He never did.

"Fine. I'll see if I can get her to stay a while longer, ok?" Sett tried to get some wiggle room for today. The thugs were one thing, but today's fights couldn't be delayed. The operation was on a tight schedule and he didn't want any further nuisances for tonight. Mom was complicating things, though, as she always did. This time she upped the ante. Maybe taking her here loosened her up a little or maybe the talk they had gave her courage. Either way, he needed her to put the 'perfect bride seeking' on hold for a while. Spotting the fox from the stairs by the bar due to his height, he thanked whatever gods watched over him for her still being there. The plan was simple; get her to agree to come over to his mother for a few minutes, play it off cool and act like friends until his mother relents and then they go their separate ways. The trick was to get her to act _only_ as a friend and not a bachelorette and given that he didn't know her at all, he didn't know how she would react to that.

He prayed she wasn't _that_ curious.

His thoughts distracted him from the fact that his legs began moving toward the fox vastaya, only snapping to when he was about eight feet away from her. She didn't notice him, only looking down in her cup and savoring her tea. She looked rather content. He found himself not wanting to interrupt; his mother taught him manners and how to read people and he put those skills to use in every situation, especially the fights. A storm of questions and nagging was awaiting him if he didn't bother her, however, prompting him to stay the course until he was at the counter and right next to her, her black glossy hair accenting her porcelain skin being rather distracting now that he took a better look at her. The whisker markings on her face were peculiar to him, but not that out of place as his mother had similar ones on her hands, though not as pronounced. The nine tails were a mystery, but he suppressed that curiosity as to not cause her to be defensive given how she reacted to them being threatened earlier. To sum it up; a rare, beautiful, deadly, charming and graceful vastayan woman, as dangerous as she was serene.

Once again, a silent prayer to whatever god was listening.

"Excuse me, miss." And so it began.

"Yes? Oh! Hello, mister bar boss. Nice to see you again. Can I help you with anything?" The fox's ears perked up in a pleasant surprise. She looked him directly in the eyes, her captivating golden pupils accentuated by black-slit irises. He kept his mind on track thanks to his mental fortitude, courtesy of being on the wrong end of a fist thanks to being distracted by things.

"First off, apologies about earlier. My people really should've gotten a handle on that and not have me come down from my dinner with mom to handle it. You finished that?" He broke the ice by apologizing and pointing to her tea.

"No worries. At least I got an eyeful of a rather handsome hunk. And yes, I did finish the tea." She teased, making the little hairs on his body stand on edge, something he managed to take control of as fast as he lost it. The fox sensed this as with all who were at least minimally attracted to her, admiring his self-control and making her a little more curious.

"Yeah, all the ladies feel that way about the abs and the arms, but don't think just 'cause you're rare means you get special treatment. That being said, this cup and the next are on the house, since there were two of those mosquitoes buzzing over your head." Sett took a seat next to her, maintaining a respectable distance. The fox, however, wasn't buying it and was more amused at his attempts to simply speak to her. He clearly had an agenda, but someone like him would straight up ask if it was business or pleasure. No… this was something else, something far more personal. His proposal put her a little on the defensive, though her mind's gates were still open. Handouts were a bit of a sore spot for her, however, given what she had done over the years.

"Please, you don't need to do that, even as a courtesy. I'd rather pay for it and be on my way."

"Well, that's even better because I sorta need to ask a favor of you. You can say no without any strings attached, don't worry. I'm not that kinda guy." There was truth in his eyes, voice and emotions. The fox's curiosity grew by the second.

"What do you mean? What kind of favor?"

"The kind that needs you to act a little bit. Look, I'm just gonna be straight with you. It's for my mom." Sett was strangely ready to spill the beans. It was either the desperation or her disarming and guard-lowering personality. Nah, it was definitely both.

"Just hear me out, ok? My mother is the sweetest, most adorable, kindhearted and gentle soul in this entire province… hell, maybe even Ionia, if she could raise someone like me by herself. She wants the best for me, a son who keeps his cards close to the chest and takes secrets to his grave and to do that, she thinks I need more people in my life who help me while at the same time I help them."

"There's a word for that. It's called 'friends.'" She giggled slightly at his sheer ineptitude on the subject.

"Yeah, those. But hey, as long as we all get paid, get some food in our bellies, return under a roof, sleep in a comfy bed and be with our family, I don't really care what they call themselves or me. Story of the world, am I right?" It was so… simple for him. The fox found herself quietly admiring that quality in people and especially someone like this human-vastaya hybrid, who made his living unscrupulously but still tried to lead a normal life with his mother. She was almost envious or rather would've been if she didn't remind herself that's exactly how she lived her life up until she took off on her personal quest to find her heritage. Maybe that's why it was so easy to read his emotions, the surface ones at least. There was still a little dark room locked inside a forgotten corner in his mind that he didn't want anyone to see, but that was a part of everyone's nature. Secrets were meant to be hidden and like or not, _everyone_ had them.

"I suppose… I really wouldn't know. I have all of those except the latter three. I've been alone as far back as my memories go." She didn't know what prompted her to say that to him of all people, but something about his honesty seemed inviting, almost tempting. Still, she treaded as carefully as he did; getting to know someone's soul was an arduous task and vastaya, including half-breeds, knew this fact well.

"Uh… well… crap. Sorry." Sett apologized, kicking himself for broaching a topic he didn't know would affect her negatively.

"No, it's ok. It's just the truth. There's a reason for that, if I'm being honest. My, uh… nature has a lot to do with it."

"Eh, I don't mind vastaya as long as they don't mind me." He cracked his knuckles and loosened his shoulders, relaxing even more with the change of topic and voicing exactly how he felt about her kind.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. Well, I mean, that's great of you to think that way, but my problem is of a different branch… the kind which I know almost nothing about. You see, I'm trying to find my clan… or family, kindred species, my tribe- Ugh. You know what I mean. My powers don't really allow me to become close to those I care about… or almost anyone, for that matter. Makes it difficult when trying to interact with people, y'know? I guess I'm sort of like…" She explained, drifting off with her last sentence with a frown and lowered ears.

"An outcast. Yeah. I know the feeling." Sett picked it up for her. Her expression mirrored his when he was a child and away from his mother's worried look.

"You too, huh? Well, seeing as how you're the leader around here, I'd say you've dealt with it pretty handily." The fox made the assumption.

"Yep. I just punched it the face and it's never come close to me since then." He boasted, proud of the fact that he handled it and grew stronger from it. The mirthy laugh from the fox signaled that she at least appreciated his gesture.

"It has a face now, does it?"

"It has multiple faces, actually. They towered over me when I was little, jeering and condescending. As I got older, they became the same height and they began standing a little further away, part from my height and part from my arms. Eventually, I grew taller than all of them and after a few more broken teeth and crushed skulls, nobody gives me that feeling anymore. So yeah, I'd say I handled it great." Sett sounded proud, almost accomplished.

"I see. I guess you're right. It does have more than one face, as all adversities do." The fox agreed.

"Well, good things have a lot of faces too, y'know. Punched ones when victorious, black-eyed ones when teaching lessons, smiling ones when coming home… I could go on, but I won't. Too sappy, even for me." He signaled his bartender for a drink, getting it within five seconds.

"That's nice for you. Both are a little different for me, though." She looked down once again.

"Whaddaya mean?" Sett tried to ease her up.

"I… well, the thing is, the people in my life… You know what? It doesn't matter. We're getting sidetracked anyhow. Tell me, what did you need? If I can, I will help." She offered, completing his goal halfway. He still wanted to know what she meant with her previous insinuations, but he was also taught not to pry in other people's business, one of the lessons he built his empire on.

"Right. It's like this; my mother thinks I'm doing legit businesses in order to support us. Thing is… I'm not and she'd literally kill me if she found out. Before coming to sort out the mess those two made, I told her I was meeting a friend from my 'job' as a crab farmer. Now she wants to meet you." Sett gave an introduction to his problem.

"Huh… Well, you're in luck. I took it on once as a means to get some gold for the road. But I'm curious as to why your mother would want to meet me."

"I left out the part where I told her you were a woman." He looked to his drink.

"Uhm, what does that have to do with anyth- Oh… Ohhhh… I see… Uh… Hmmm, this might be a bit awkward." The fox was now starting to get the whole picture.

"It already is for two of us. My momma's not exactly a mellow person when it comes to these things." He didn't sugarcoat it for her, knowing that to do so would put her at a disadvantage.

"So… do you want me to… be agreeable or brush it off?" She seemed strangely content with both options, something Sett made a mental note of.

"Just brush it off while playing along as much as possible." He gulped his drink, signaling that he was ready to get this show on the road. He looked to the fox vastaya, looking for her approval and agreement. He only got a curious look in return.

"Do you have a lot of them?"

He knew what the question was about.

"I got enough important people around me. All I need, really."

He still couldn't answer it clearly.

"Not what I asked you."

"Look, do you want to come or not? I ain't got all day." He got strangely defensive. Was it really that much of a weak spot for him? Or did he just not want to get involved too deeply, to forge a strong, meaningful and lasting bond with someone?

…Was she talking about him or herself? She couldn't tell the difference, if she was being honest. She looked him straight in the eyes once more, graceful and entrancing gold falling on combative and determined rouge pink. Rarely had she been this curious about someone ever since she cut herself off from contact with the civilized world. Trying to connect led only to pain and regretful memories. There was something different about him, though; the simplicity combined with the secret-keeping made him approachable yet distant, like a delectable morsel dangling in front of her starving stomach. The few similar subjects they could have a calm and understanding conversation on simply established something of a foundation.

A foundation of what, though? It's what she wanted to find out. Might as well take that first step once again, only this time it would be on her terms, not her whims or desires.

"Alright. I have a few hours to spare and nothing to do, anyways. Let's go say hi to mom." The fox stood up from her seat, eager to start her 'adventure'. Sett just raised a questioning eyebrow, but brushed it off as he had neither the time nor the patience for asking anymore questions about the vastayan fox.

"Finally. Come on, let's get this show rolling. Oh right! If we're gonna be even 'pretend-friends', we should at least introduce ourselves. Besides, ma might get suspicious." He turned to her, looking her in the eyes once more and extending his massive arm toward her.

"I'm Settrigh, but my people just call me Sett." He presented himself with a grin. The fox took a moment for one last thought; if this was the start of a journey and a bond, she should see through to the end, no matter where it led. Maybe it was time to let go off the weight of her mistakes and start building off of the lessons they taught her.

Maybe it was time to start bonding anew, healthily this time.

She took his hand and gave it a gentle shake.

"I'm Ahri. Nice to meet you, Sett."

* * *

The sun was past its zenith when Kayn and his retinue arrived in the Iron City, the authorities immediately notified of their arrival. Though they maintained a firm grip on the law in Kashuri, troublemakers, gangers, outlaws and vastayan rebels were still trying to establish some resemblances of footholds in the city. Nuisances though they were, the Order couldn't risk anything compromising their plans, especially with the return of Zed at its head and the resuming of activities against the Council and the Kinkou and thus kept a tight grip on the city's activities. The former councilman's daughter had helped them a lot, but even her power had limits, which were quite literally the city's walls. Outside, they were on their own. They had to make the best out of this alliance in order to secure the new one yet to be forged. It was this fact that bothered Kayn the most.

Ever since returning to the Order, Zed had been more proactive than usual, using every resource at his disposal to bolster their numbers and assemble an arsenal worthy of an army. There had been no shortage of either, the numbers gained from both outspoken folk against the balance-keepers, Karma's insistence on maintaining a steady path instead of a hands-on one and former soldiers with no families to come home to as well as orphaned teens. A lot of damage had been done and Zed and the Order were here to fix it instead of watching and waiting like Shen and the Kinkou. The arsenal on the other hand had been a lot more questionable, from the inside as well as their enemies. Crossbows, powder lances and now this newest weapon made them question how much longer could they uphold their values if they kept relying on foreign designs and support. Lady Onoki, the daughter of Gao and their security detail 'chaperone', so to speak, had not only advocated the idea but also provided the link to her father, who reforged his ties with the order he always thought the Kinkou should be, now reimagined and rebuilt by Zed in the form of a different type of faction, one that was willing to take the fight to their enemies. Still, all who made the choice of joining them wondered if there was such a thing as going too far.

The return of the Golden Demon and his capture certainly proved that as did Shen's decision to spare his life. Zed had long suspected he had ties to the Council and was ready to provide his findings with the Kinkou… on the condition that Khada Jhin, the monster responsible for so many lives lost, be executed on the spot.

It did not come to pass and now, the Demon lay comfortably in his cell, his every need fed and catered to while awaiting his freedom, which was all but guaranteed.

No wonder Zed wanted war; this couldn't go on any longer. This poison _had_ to be purged from Ionia's tainted veins. The Kinkou and Karma thought that Ionia would develop an antitoxin, but this type of poison had been so ingrained in their nation that there was no telling the difference between making it spread and containing it. No, the slate _had_ to be wiped clean. There was no other way.

All of these thoughts distracted him long enough for the journey through the crowded streets of Kashuri to be nothing more than a walk down to the store, the store in this case being the massive manufacturing complex where the Order's weapons were made, including their newest creation. The giant metal gates slid open, creaking with an ear-splitting grind as they revealed the workshops and the production facilities. Thanks to the brilliant and meticulous reverse-engineering process of Kashuri's craftsmen and metalworkers, creating weapons with foreign designs had been nothing more than a passing breeze in the hurricane of creation in Ionia. Those willing to use them had been steadily increasing in number as technological advancements superseded tradition and culture, at least in the southeastern parts of Ionia. All others frowned upon it, not wanting to jeopardize their relationship with the land, something Zed advocated for, though more out of practicality rather than necessity. Better to have it your side than the enemy's, right?

Speaking of sides, they had just crossed the crossbow workshops and were approaching the foundry, the heart of the complex and their operation. The weapon they were constructing had foreign design and base blueprint, but was augmented and modified to fit Ionian weapon outlines and functions, sleek and gracefully built while functioning solely on magic. How they intended to fire them was a different question altogether, one Kayn hope would be answered by his master soon, for all of the Order's sake.

He spotted Zed rushing down the iron stairs of the top level of the factory, the heat and fumes rising from the cauldrons beneath making him seem like a true wraith of purpose and fury. Beside him, Onoki, clad in her iron samurai suit and her dual katanas drawn from their scabbard kept up with the Master of Shadows almost perfectly, following his movements with a fervor of her own. They spotted him, Zed turning shadow-teleporting toward him while Onoki climbed down the stairs with agility even while fully clad in her heavy armor.

"You're early. Dedication or good fortune?" Zed stood before his former apprentice.

"Both." His student made a respectful bow. Despite being elevated to a leader's position, the moment Zed returned to the Order he instantly stepped down and let him resume his role. He even told him the reasons why he so quickly did it; there was still a lot left to learn and only through following his example could they do so.

"Good to see you, Master." Kayn greeted his teacher and friend, the Darkin's whisperings from his cursed arm ceasing for a brief moment.

"A hundred times we've been over this and you still refuse to drop it." Zed took off his mask for a brief moment, allowing Kayn and those behind him to witness his happiness at his former apprentice turned shadow warrior.

"Good to see you too, Kayn. I'd invite you to tea, but we have more pressing matters to attend to." As he spoke, Onoki landed with a massive clang on the platform they were on, grinning like a madwoman.

"Hey, Edgelord. Still kissing his toes?" She pointed to Zed while sneering at Kayn, her pearly teeth accenting her smirk marvelously.

"… Hello to you too, Onoki." Kayn just frowned, knowing that no matter what he said, she would still heckle him.

"Come, you two. We have a situation at hand." Zed motioned them to follow as he walked toward the entrance of the main office. Kayn signaled his retinue away while Onoki waved the guards to clear the way. Zed opened the metal door and stepped inside the office, both Onoki's personal staying quarters and the main operating room, a neat comfy chair and a large desk with three more chairs on the opposite side in the middle of it. Decorated with blades of intricate and sleek Ionian design, small bonsai trees which were delicately taken care of, a suit of dented iron armor painted blue and hung up on a mannequin and a large painting of a man, a woman and a young two-year girl sitting in her lap. Their smiles of content and joy symbolized better and bygone days. Still, Onoki couldn't bring herself to take it down. Maybe a part of her still wanted to travel back in time mentally to those moments, brief as they were. It was one of the few things Zed sympathized with… reminiscing of better times, with people that cared for you, helped you grow and saw the best in you. Nowadays, he was one of those people… or at least, tried to be. It still gnawed him that he couldn't help but stay the course he had chosen. Funny how despite the strength it gave him, it never truly could make him forget the past and move on…

It didn't matter right now, though. They had a war to plan.

"You know the most of it, Onoki, so I'll be brief for Kayn's sake. A group of four travellers have entered Kashuri and they're being led by the Rogue Assassin." Zed began, letting Kayn digest the last part.

"She followed us all the way here… as we thought she would. She is rather persistent, huh?" Kayn had heard of the guerrilla attacks the Rogue Assassin had carried out on the Order by herself, but he never thought her tenacity wouldn't be stopped by her common sense.

"Actually, she's using her head on this one. She brought some serious reinforcements in the form of a war hero, a vastaya and an armored bodyguard."

"Who are they?"

"The vastaya and the armored man are unknowns at this time, though judging by appearance alone the vastaya is a water-based species, thus maybe capable of such magic. The armored man… honestly, he doesn't look like he's from around these parts or even Ionia. He was rather fidgety and alert, though that could just be his disposition. Nevertheless, based on his frame, size, skin thickness and reflexes, he's tough, strong and will **not** be going down easily in a head-on fight, even against three full battalions. We need to play smart around both of them, probe them for any type of weakness and then hit it with all we got. No chances taken, understood?" Zed laid out what he gleaned from the few short observations on the foreigners.

"As always. What about the war hero? Who is it?" Kayn asked.

"Irelia Xan."

The tension rose up in Kayn. No wonder his master was worried and called for him this soon. The Liberator of Ionia was not someone they needed against them at this crucial stage in their plans.

"Eh, don't worry about her. I'll handle her." Onoki piped up, brandishing her dual katanas.

"Just a heads-up; if you provoke her, she'll literally eviscerate you in three seconds… in at least a hundred and twenty four different body parts, by my estimate." Zed simply deduced and warned. Onoki's grin didn't weaken.

"Not if I eviscerate her first." She slashed in her right, creating a burning wind that left a singing trail across the wall and her weapon cases, the ash and dust evaporating just as fast as it hit.

"Your magic is formidable, but your temper is not. Matching her will not be an issue for you, but actually defeating her is a different story. Besides, you must think further ahead, Onoki. Say you, by some divine intervention, defeat her, this hero that won the war almost singlehandedly. What's the backlash going to be like when the people and the Council find out, and they _will_ find out with those boasting tendencies of yours, that you killed her, a shady and violent guard captain with connections to the Order of Shadows?" Zed tried basic reason. It seemed to calm her somewhat, but her grin didn't fade.

"Fine. We'll play it the coward's way." She sheathed her katanas and sat down in her chair.

"Have care with your words-" Kayn began warning her, but her katana was on his throat before he could even finish breathing out. Shadow magic didn't work against her elemental one so he couldn't quite phase through her blade if he wanted to.

"Or what, asslicker?" She challenged him.

"That's enough, both of you. Kayn, take a seat. Please." Zed diffused the situation as his former apprentice took a seat opposite of the guard captain of Kashuri. Transgression forgiven but not forgotten, he swore to himself he would make her pay for her carefree attitude against his master. Unfazed by the event, Zed simply sat down and took out a map of Kashuri from beneath his suit, unfurling it on the table before both of his allies.

"We last saw the party here, in the Fireworks District near Khonon Street. The Foundry District is right next to it, a few minutes' walk from the factory. What's the layout of your forces, Onoki?" Zed immediately got to planning.

"Stretched too thin and too wide. The recent events have had my boys and girls all over the city trying to contain whatever trouble pops up. Animal freak rebels, Brotherhood recruiters and spies, Noxian infiltrators- no, just name it and it probably makes a mess for my city. The Fireworks District is another matter altogether. I don't know how and I don't know when, but somehow an underground fight arena's been established, right under my godsdamned nose. My forces are too occupied locating the culprits and rumor has it that the leader of that whole shebang is going to visit the city, if he hasn't already. I can't spare anything for you other than myself and an off-duty patrol unit." She pinched the bridge of her nose thinking about the entire thing; she wanted nothing more than to find whoever or whatever let the arena get established and wring its neck off or burn them alive, but she also had a reputation to uphold… at least in public.

"What good are you to us, then?" Kayn couldn't stop himself.

"Kayn." Zed turned to him with a reprimand and a warning.

"Apologies, master."

"Then we make do with what we have. We find out where the four are staying, what they have on them, who they talk to, everything. Once we step out of this room, I want to know the minute we get eyes on them. The weapon's schedule, Onoki?" Zed kept the conversation focused.

"On track and finished by morning. Twenty cannons are ready and primed for use."

"Good. Get your people to get it done. You'll have my Order double the guard on the factory. Meanwhile, you, Kayn and I will scout and assess the situation with the former Kinkou and the Liberator of Ionia. The moment we find the weak spots, we take note, position ourselves properly, time it right and strike without mercy. Not even for Irelia Xan, am I clear?" He put his mask back on and got out of his chair, a sign that the meeting was done and it was time to execute the strategy.

"Crystal. If you don't mind, I'd still like that shot at the dancer." Onoki got up as well, her katanas out of their scabbards and eager for blood.

"You'll get it as long as the others are occupied and unable to come to her aid. One last thing; take special care with the unknowns, the water vastaya and the armored man. Observe them more closely if you have to, but do not attack or call in backup unless you have gleaned every single one of their weaknesses and strengths. If you have nothing to add, we leave at once." Zed gave her a moment which Onoki simply scoffed in impatience. Though she was brash, she wasn't stupid, at least when it came to combat. Politics and subtlety were best left up to her father. Kayn got up as well, gripping his cursed scythe with renewed vigor.

"On your tail, master."

"Good. We move out." Without further ado, they exited, Onoki rushing on ahead to the last known place the group was spotted. Zed got ready to shadow-port away but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"A word, master?" Kayn asked. Zed turned, seeing the disquiet in his eyes.

"What is it, Kayn?" Even though they barely had any time, he still made sure to spare some for him.

"These weapons we are making… are we really sure this is the right course for the Order? What if our own supporters and followers lose their faith in us because we're willing to break our own ways?" Though his capabilities as a leader were formidable, doubt still gnawed young Kayn thus limiting his sight and heart. Even though that time passed and even though many still believed this was their relationship still, it was his duty as his former master to guide him away from his own limits and push him beyond them.

"To grow and change with the times is how the Order will survive. Leave those that refuse to do so to their fate. Those who support us will see our way to the end while those that ride coattails will not have the strength to hang on much further and be left to the dust." He placed a hand on his apprentice- former apprentice's shoulder.

"I understand, master. Which leads me to another question; who is the ally you have made that you cannot tell anyone about? Secrecy is good up-"

"-to a point, yes. You remember that lesson." Though he would much rather keep his new ally secret a bit longer, his mind prompted him that this sort of thinking got Kusho killed, by his own hand no less. Besides, Kayn deserved to know the truth. They all did. At least, a part of it.

"Fae'lor. I found our ally in Fae'lor. Specifically, in what was left of it. She promised me power in exchange for our mutual goal being achieved; purging Ionia's weakness and restraints in order to establish a stronger, safer nation. In order to achieve said mutual goal, we'll need her help and to do so, I must help her in return." Zed spilled at least a quarter of the beans.

"Her? Who's-?"

"An answer for another time. Right now, we have a mission to see done." Zed put his mask back on, his eyes flaring red once more. Kayn just nodded and followed his master's back, feeling a slight tinge on his left arm and in the back of his mind.

"**Once again, you prove me wrong about you, Kayn. I thought you were worthy but all you are is a torn strap on the boot of destiny. And here I thought you had what it takes to be your own man.**" Rhaast's voice echoed across his thoughts.

"If that's so, what does that say about you, Rhaast?"

"**That I make bad decisions, one of which is picking you to wield me. Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't developed butterfingers with the way you grease up that hair and mouth.**" He was incessant at times, when he wasn't trying to fight for control or heckle him.

"Too bad for you, then. You're going to yield and I will take my place at the Order's top." Kayn felt confidence, boosted by his dedication and training. He heard no words from the scythe, either a sign of contemplation or submission.

"No words of wisdom, Rhaast? And here I thought you'd want nothing more than freedom. Instead, you'll just be a lesson on the road to my ascension. Such a tragic fate…" He boasted. Rhaast suddenly chuckled menacingly… or rather, mockingly.

"**Freedom?** **Oh, spare me your drama. You'll never be rid of me and you know it. You're too afraid to be independent and on your own.**" Something in that sentence got to Kayn, piercing a chink in his guard for a slight bit.

"Grasping at straws now, are we? Save your guesses, Darkin. I'll conquer you and then the Order. I'll be truly unrestricted to save this nation from itself and take my freedom as I deserve." He recovered quickly, reaffirming his belief in his ways.

"**Just like your master intended you to do?**"

No retort, only silence.

"**First it was Noxus, sending you to die in a land that wanted nothing to do with you. Now it's this Zed fellow, grooming you to be a killer under the guise of love and parenthood. Face it, Kayn. You'll never be truly free from anyone, especially yourself. Even your only act of defiance against your master bound you to me, sealing your fate to eternal struggle or eternal doom. And so here you stand, following, groveling and obeying like the leashed dog you were born as. Deep down, you know as well as I do, Noxian.**" With every word he dented his mental armor even further until a small opening presented itself, an opening Kayn barely held off.

"**You'll never change, mutt. That strength left you the moment you agreed to follow Zed and you finally buried it when you gripped me. The Noxian poison of servitude and submission is still inside you, coursing through your blood. All that's left is to destroy that child, the one they abandoned on that battlefield and the one Zed found and brainwashed- apologies, rebranded.**" He chuckled at his host's attempts to block him out, but it was no use.

"**You'll never defy your master because to do so would be to kill him. And like I said… you're afraid of being alone.**"

Once again, utter silence.

"**Heh. That bull of a woman was right about you. You really are an asslicker.**"

"Shut up, freak." He finally managed to still the Darkin's ramblings. In the world of the mind, it was a long and hard battle but in the real one a mere two seconds passed. He focused on the one person in front of him, the person that gave him life and a chance at finding purpose for himself. It was not grooming, but kindness.

At least, that's what he told himself. It was enough for now.

* * *

The Shady Spring Inn was rather tame compared to the rest of the Fireworks District, but that was due to the establishment's thick walls and heavy doors. It was a place of rest, after all, something rarely found in the place it was built on. The rooms were also spacey, enough so that at least ten people fit in one with no loss of comfort. It was more than useful for the five travellers, who were now staying in one such room with an open window to let the outside bustle and air freshen it up a bit. Everyone was busy in their own way; Akali checked on her smoke bombs while sitting comfily on her cushion, Nami was off at the reception and the lounge gathering information about her quest and Yasuo was off scouting the entrance to the factory. Akali and Irelia insisted that he not go alone, but once he reasoned that him being alone lowered his chances of getting spotted or them being singled out and picked off, they relented and let him go. So now the only ones in the spacey room, decorated with a small table, five comfy sitting cushions, a glass of water and mint tea were the knight and the dancer, along with plenty of time and privacy between them.

Neither of them minded the relative peace, the only disturbance being the outside muffled bustle. Garen was trying to come up with combat moves and fighting strategies as a team while Irelia polished her crest now separated into blades. Though it was unspoken, it was felt; both of them enjoyed each other's company, Garen grateful for a like-minded heroine to help him and Irelia thankful for a guide and a believer in her future vision. She learned her lesson back in Bilgewater, however; some words needed saying.

"Garen?"

"Yes, my friend?" It still warmed her spirit whenever he said that.

"Did I ever thank you properly for what you did for me the few days back? On the ancients, I mean, with elder Mai and her people?" She began her words as steady as her hands.

"Well, I assumed the new and shiny suit of armor, the beautifully crafted sword and the drinks and food along our journey were your way of doing so. You know what they say about women and their relations to men's stomachs." Garen patted himself on his belly.

"Ugh. I'm trying to be serious here, you pig." She barely kept herself from smiling.

"And I'm making you fail miserably. Come on, Irelia. We don't need to be serious about saying or doing these things anymore. You know I am more than happy to help, especially with that." He got up and took his seat on a cushion opposite of her, watching her work on polishing the blades, every stroke delicate, careful and precise, much like all of her motions. She was an artist when it came to moving, something that dwelled in the back of his mind ever since he met her.

"Maybe… but I still want to say it to you. These past few months with you have been quite the adventure, literally in the case of our stay in Bilgewater. I just want you to know that I appreciate everything you've done for me. You almost make me not want to doubt about the future or my current path to it." She finished polishing her blades, putting away the towel, basin and gloves and retracting them into the Xan family crest, the metal sigil floating directly behind her head.

"And she tells _me_ not to mope…" He handed her the mint tea as she sat down opposite of him. The table was rather small so they weren't that far apart, but there was still enough space between them to make the other at least reach out.

"Well, you tend to do a lot of it and I'm honestly getting annoyed of seeing the Hero constantly be under the weather just by getting a little homesick." She took a sip, savoring the fresh and warm mint on her tongue.

"You wouldn't? I distinctly remember the two drops of water at your feet when we first arrived, even though I didn't see your face. It'd be the same thing I'd do when I return home and I'm not ashamed to admit it to you. The drops will turn into rivers when I see my family. My aunt, my parents, my sister…" He took a sip of his water as well, the clear reflection betraying his expression of sorrow and happiness combined.

"Lucky you. The only time I'll get to see my family again is at the moment of my death. Until then, I'll be alone with my dances and my memories." Irelia turned a bit morose as well.

"You may have lost them, but you're not alone. Yes, she can a bit of pain, but Akali is willing to fight beside you and support you in your defense of your home. This wind warrior as well, though he's more of a loner from what I gathered. Still, I think a lot of people are willing to stand behind you and follow you to your envisioned future and through it, their own as well. You'll be fine. Trust me." Once again, nothing but encouragement. She was almost starting to enjoy it.

"Friends… To be honest, those two might not be the best to get along with. They're irritating, loners, do what they think is best without consulting others first and rush ahead into danger." She described some of their traits. All she got in response was a hearty laugh from Garen.

"What? What's so funny?"

"You do realize you just described yourself, right?" It caught her off guard.

"I, uh… Well, that's- I just- Oh, screw it. Fine. They still need a lot of work, though." She turned a bit red. Despite all her wall building, he still found a way through to her joy, fishing it out like an expert.

"So do you."

"Shut up." They both laughed freely after that one. Garen was the first to raise his glass.

"To us and the people we love and care for."

"May they never stop cussing us out." They toasted happily, downing their drinks and reminiscing about their current relationships. Garen was blessed with a large family, all of whom were accomplished warriors, servants to the kingdom or simple politicians. Irelia, while alone, had the support of a lot of folk back in Navori that wanted to follow her to any future battle for her homeland or to simply ask her to dance for them, which she more than willingly did. Despite those opposing her, she had a large following of her own. She only wished they didn't come to blows; infighting left them vulnerable to their enemies.

Irelia raised her head, looking to Garen who was staring at the bottom of his glass, smiling in content memories, a Demacian so far from his magic-denying kingdom and into a magic-harmonizing land. Despite all of that, he adapted well and even sought fit to trust her, a mage, with his life and quest. He was right. They were never truly alone, either of them. Through trouble and peace, they stood by each other, to the bitter or sweet end of the day. She came to care for him a great deal, call him friend and share burdens with him, something she would've though improbable given their nations' dogmas. When all's said and done, it seemed, nations didn't matter, only who understood you and stood beside you in your time of need. He had many people back home to support him, a family, friends, comrades, soldiers, even his own king.

But there was something that eluded their conversations, something neither of them thought to ask about the other. Truth be told, it wasn't that relevant with all the fighting and surviving, but now, in these shared moments, it crept up from the back of her head. Was it her place to ask? What if it brought up some jaded events from his past? He never really talked about it so she never asked on instinct. Why was she thinking about it now?

"What?" Garen asked, noticing her gaze. She caught herself, but didn't stop. She felt comfortable, frightened and daring all at the same time. It was the smile, that stupid, soft, unconditional smile.

"If you don't mind me asking…" Irelia began tentatively, but slowly gained steam. It was just a question. No need to overthink it… right?

"What is it?"

"Has there ever been someone… special… in your life?"

There it was, out in the open. It seemed so trivial now that it was.

"Well, of course. I have lots of people that are special to me. Jarvan, my sister Lux, my aunt-"

"Not like that, dum-dum. Gods, you're so thick sometimes..." It amazed her how dense he was. Then again, something had to keep him alive through all those hits he took and withstood like they were nothing.

"I meant someone… close to your heart." It was suddenly starting to get warmer in the room, despite the open window.

"Oh… like that… I see." He looked away all of a sudden. Was it really a bad topic for him? She suddenly wished time was turned back.

"There haven't really been that many women of that… caliber in my life. Only one so far, the only one that could keep up at least until recent events. She was determined, zealous and driven… to a fault. She kept pushing, always thinking she had something to prove to herself and almost always she came close to achieving it. I was… infatuated, to say the least. I kept chasing her, thinking that this kind of drive could only be tempered by equal passion, something she had an abundance of. I trailed her incessantly, telling myself that this is my fated foe, one of true contrasting virtues. That is, until I caught her and saw her for what she truly was." He turned to the window, the only source of light in the room.

"Beneath all that rage and violence was a woman who had never known kindness or mercy. Killing was all she was born to do, almost as if gaining strength from it. I tried to pull her out of it, tried to show her that not all the world was blood and knives. The moment she saw it, however, she was blinded by it, unable to see anything but broken walls and weak spots. All of this had a backlash on her; she tried doing the same to me, pulling me to the darkness. I never even moved and stood still in my convictions, completely diametric to hers. And that's when I realized it, finally free from the restraints and lies of my passions. We were just too separate, too opposed to function, the common grounds we shared littered with bodies and blood. Not a stable foundation to build a relationship on, trust me. The last time I was blindsighted by her got me captured and separated me from home." Garen paused, looking at the light one last time before tuning to Irelia, who processed the information.

"Wait a moment. Captured? The woman you were infatuated with-"

"-is a Noxian, yes." He let the bitter truth linger in the air, Irelia slowly breathing it all in. Just like the night they shared their first drink and first argument in Bilgewater, the tension grew thicker and they both felt it, the passage of time slowing to a near halt and the outside noise nearly deafened. Garen was preparing himself for the onslaught of reprimands, rebukes, disgust and anger. For nearly two months he had kept this a secret, not because he wanted to but because she never asked and he never sought a reason to tell her. What was he supposed to say, anyway? That his first actual crush was on a Noxian woman who was part of the same empire that took her family away? That, despite knowing better, he still chased after her like an utter idiot? That even when he saw what she was, he still believed she deserved redemption? Nothing he said would ease her pain or bring her family back and nothing would ever change how Noxus did things. He knew firsthand what that empire was capable of and Katarina Du Couteau was not only a part of said empire but also a vital instrument in forging it. War leaves no room for love and Noxus was all about war.

"And? Have you moved on?"

The way she asked that was strange. There was disappointment in her voice, but also a little hope. No traces of any of the aforementioned emotions. He took it as a good sign; at least she was willing to give him a chance and hear him out. But he had to be honest with her. She deserved no less after everything they've been through.

"Not completely, I'll admit that much. But I'm working on it. It's just going to take time. I'll get over her fully eventually, for myself and those around me." He confessed. Irelia looked him straight in the eyes for that whole sentence, satisfied with what she saw.

"Good."

"You're… Wait, you're not mad?" Now Garen was caught off guard.

"Why would I be mad? You realized what you were doing and stopped. Why would I scold you for that?" Despite her dissatisfaction, she was trying her best to encourage him and to keep her smile up. One passing thought kept it up there, deciding to voice itself.

"Besides, and this may sound spiteful, mostly because it is, but as far as I'm concerned…" She smiled mischievously, looking Garen straight in the eyes. The spite for Noxus was suddenly gone, replaced with warmness for the knight in front of her, pride for what he was trying to do and happiness that he was still the person she knew and cared for. The words were there still, but this new feeling was far more fulfilling.

"… It's her loss." Irelia spoke them. Garen was silent, a little tingling and soothing feeling creeping up in his chest.

"Hm. Thanks." His smile returned.

"So you're single now?" She couldn't stop herself, even though it was probably rude to ask.

"I suppose, though I don't think I'll return to even simply courting a woman anytime soon. Need a little while to heal and get my bearing, right?" He admitted, knowing that these things only healed with time and effort.

"Take as long as you need. No reason to rush." She smiled back.

"Will do. What about you? Anyone special in your life?" He returned to the topic at hand with renewed curiosity.

"Me? No. After the war was over, I simply returned to helping my nation recover. There was no time to even spare a thought about that sort of thing. Too many people needed my help and I always put others before me." Her crest shimmered at her thoughts.

"Yeah, I know that feeling almost intimately." Garen also nodded in approval.

"Well, there's still plenty of time for that down the road in your life." He stated a simple truth.

"It's not the time. It's the opportunities I don't have. Like you, I also need a little while to gather my thoughts and figure out where I go after the fighting's done for good." She explained her future dilemmas.

"Slow and steady, right? Well, to whomever you trust your heart with, lucky them." He practically beamed positivity with that sentence. As with all other times, she couldn't help but let it in and be overcome by it.

"Lucky, huh?" She looked deeper into his eyes, the crest behind lowering calmly along with her shoulders, elbows on her knees with one hand across and the other supporting her chin.

"Yes. Very much so."

Throughout the entire conversation, that familiar timeless bubble was forming around them, engulfing them in that white void of peace, silence and serenity. Once again, it was just the two of them and once again, both of them wished for the moment to last as long as possible.

"We're back!"

It was always too short.

"Hey, you two. Miss us?" Nami floated in, carrying a few papers, maps and a quill.

"Nah, I bet they enjoyed their alone time. Ain't that right, Knivey?" Akali was starting to snowball. It was past noon, but time was an irrelevant concept when it came to pestering the Blade Dancer.

"Let's see; no Akali to annoy me, argue pointlessly with me or insult me as well as no worrying about Yasuo drinking and Nami suffering in between us all. Yep. I did enjoy my alone time with the one person relatively normal in this insanity group of ours. No offense, Nami." Irelia split her crest to signal the end of the relaxation.

"None taken. Where _is_ Yasuo, anyway?" The merry-filled Marai inquired.

"Right behind you."

"Dah! Can you- Can you _not_? Like, ever again!?" Nami's scales perked up a little along with her small jump.

"I'll try not to. Still, you should develop a reflex. Might save your life one day." Yasuo just strode past the Marai and took a seat, grabbing his bottle firsthand.

"What news from the factory? What'd you find out?" Akali sat next to him, eager to hear the details.

"May I?" He asked Nami for the quill and a paper, the Marai happily lending them to him.

"Factory? More like a damn fortress. It's a hexagon, but the towers and walls have no blind spots or slow and small reaches. They got five guards with crossbows on all six angles and sides along with three lookouts. I had to stake it out at a distance, even bribing an urchin to get me some eyes and ears. Seeing as how the little weasel bled me dry, they don't allow even those there for long. Still, the brat did get me some good and valid information. The captain of Kashuri's Guard Forces, the daughter of Gao, is present on the site. The urchin also told me a rumor going around the city, overheard by beggars and thieves. Apparently, daddy's girl has been rather unable to keep the peace around here, letting a branch of Navori's underground fighting pit empire slip by into Kashuri. Some of their agents are recruiting around town and the pubs and teahouses, which makes them rather easy to find. I spoke to one of them who recognized me, offering me a spot on the roster. I told him to leave it open, just in case, in which he agreed. He told me the arena is practically near the border between the Fireworks and Foundry districts, something about better attracting customers while staying ahead of the authorities by being right under their noses. If we ask, they'll definitely point us in the right direction." Yasuo drew out a small sketch map on what he had while the others digested the information, Garen especially chewing it over fervently in his mind.

"If they're easy to find, it means it's difficult to get in. Nice scribble, by the way." Akali threw in her two coppers based on her own knowledge about the arena and basic logic regarding the fighting pits.

"Exactly and thanks. These guys only recruit serious and dangerous fighters, people who can dish it out and take it. They ain't beggars, so they're extremely picky and observant. Getting in through that way is going to be a challenge. The other way isn't a cakewalk, either. The factory's defenses have been further reinforced by Order lackeys, which puts a frontal assault in the 'suicide wish' bag. To put it simply, we're not getting in there unless we're invited." Yasuo took a sip, shaking his head in defeat knowing that the four will try anyway.

"Wait, what about the authorities? If this captain is corrupt, shouldn't they be doing something about her?" Garen asked. Yasuo looked at Akali, who shrugged it off.

"He's a tight-ass, dude. Been dealing with that all the way here." She smirked.

"I don't know how things are done in Demacia but here, who's a threat and who's an ally is a bit blurry. Nothing is that simple anymore. I'm a fugitive myself-"

"Ex-fugitive." Irelia sounded off, shooting him a look to stop with the self-beating.

"Whatever floats your boat… or blades or whatnot. The point is we won't have any cover to fall back on here with the law because it's in her hands." Yasuo explained.

"Those scoundrels! Have they no sense of justice?!" Garen's feelings got the better of him for a brief moment through a raised voice and a fist through the poor innocent table, prompting everyone to turn to him with widened eyes. Finally snapping out of it, he saw the damage and retracted his hand from the wooden hole he decorated the table with.

"I, uhm… I apologize. It's just… well…"

"You love justice, we know." Nami was the first to cool him off.

"Nice slam, by the way." Akali teased him.

"Knock it off, broom-hair." Irelia just slapped her lightly across her arm, turning to see if Garen was calm.

"You ok?"

"I'm alright. Still, we need to focus. Where does this leave us, Yasuo?" He returned to the briefing.

"A step away from rock bottom. All the odds are stacked against us and we're only five in a city of iron, infiltrated by a fighting pit empire from the underground and the Order of Shadows controlling it from the above. Still, we have two things; that age-old ally the element of surprise and the new kid called 'rule-bending'. Since they don't apply to us, might as well skirt around them, right? No matter what, we'll be at the jaws of hell and they'll be wide open." Yasuo finished, awaiting the four's unsurrendering responses.

"We'll find a way, don't you worry. It's just going to be a lot riskier." Garen proved those assumptions correct with a finger on his chin.

"If they want to fight without justice, so will we. I may be a firm believer in it, but I can adapt my code when necessary." The plans slowly formulated in his head and every piece moved to its place on his mind's board.

"What are you thinking, Thunder? Sneak sabotage or underground entry?" Akali asked, the only one in the group seeing the only two options available to them besides Garen.

"Both."

The devious smirk was a surprise for all of them.

"Ok, this I gotta hear." Akali flipped her kunai eagerly.

"Both entry points require a lot of pandering and preparation and will raise suspicion if a party of five attempts to use either of them. Two by two, on the other hand, we'll have a better chance. As Yasuo said, the underground arena and the factory are on the border between the Fireworks District and the Foundry District. We just have to be prudent in all our choices once we're out in the field. To do that, we have to start here and now." Garen motioned for Yasuo to hand him the quill and Nami for a paper.

"In order to split up without drawing any attention, we need to have the right people on the right points. The arena only accepts fighters of great caliber, but they are also picky which means Irelia and Nami have no chance of entering in there." He began, the smirk now turned into a planning smile. He thrived in seemingly hopeless combat scenarios.

"Hey! I'm a great fighter and you know it." Irelia perked up.

"But you're also Irelia Xan, Liberator of Ionia and with views known across your nation." Garen simply rationalized.

"Like I said, Knivey, put your head in the game. Not only are they gonna recognize you on sight, but they'll also alert whoever's running the racket and get the hell outta there on the spot, causing an uproar. Second, and this is really the more important thing, you're gonna start shaking down people for information instead of carefully prodding and persuading them." Akali twirled her kunai by the ring, looking skeptically at Irelia.

"Ugh. Point taken. So what's my role in all of this?"

"Patience, Irelia. Everything in its due time. Now then, the ones that will go for the underground arena are me and Yasuo, provided he accepts." He looked to Yasuo, who studied him. In the wind warrior's eyes, this was a man raised and trained for war and was street-smart enough to know where he stands and who's around him. He was worth listening to.

"Tell me the plan and I'll tell you the answer to that."

"Fair enough. You and I will pose as arena aspirants, though it probably won't be much of a pose since we'll be trying to climb higher up in order to acquire the necessary info. That definitely means roughing it out in the pits. I assume it's lethal by nature?" Garen inquired.

"It is, but I have no qualms with it. You?" He asked.

"Depends on who we need. If one of the contestants knows something, we might need to get creative or arrange something. Either way, we can't overdo it."

"Right, but no promises. We'll be fighting for our lives." Yasuo took his bottle out, eager to start chugging.

"Fair enough." Garen then turned serious, looking at Irelia and Nami.

"The second part is the riskier one, though. In order to avert the Order's eyes, two of us have to put themselves right in their sights. And believe me when I say, nothing turns heads quite like a hero out in front of everyone." He looked to Irelia whose face lit up at his insinuation.

"Wait… you want me to knock on the Order's front door?"

"More or less."

"Whoa, Thunder. Exposing her to the Order? You're basically giving them a bargaining chip. Besides, we still don't know if they're not gonna attack her on sight. They probably know about her involvement after the attack on the temple and the pursuit across the grass rivers." Akali advised some caution, uncharacteristic of her.

"I've weighted that in, which is why Nami and you are going with her for backup. Nami behind her, you in the shadows. Do not reveal yourself unless their lives are in danger. When they let you in-"

"IF they let us in, you mean."

"Oh, even they won't refuse a ham this delicious. Sorry for the analogy, but we have no other choice but to dangle you in front of them." He turned to Irelia who just nodded in response.

"I've done it against Noxus many times before. This will be no different." She split her crest in agreement.

"Except you'll be going up against your own people."

"No true Ionian would harm another. If I'm wrong about that, then I don't belong to this nation." She sounded almost patriotic.

"Very well, then. What's our time window, Yasuo?"

"The factory closes at sundown, but the production ceases at least twenty minutes before that. Interestingly, the arena matches begin twenty minutes _after_ sundown. Coincidence? Not likely." He took a sip, starting to get more involved in this foolhardy but daring plan.

"Meaning they have at least the city's work routines info. If one of the spectators, say a worker or a contractor from the foundry finds their way into the crowd…" Garen connected the dots on their plan.

"We get the info we need out of them. Well, it sounds and looks good on paper." Yasuo brought them down with a little reality.

"I know, which is why we need to be at our best should the improvisation need arise. Judging from what I've seen and what you've told us, it most likely will." Garen finished.

"Oh, I'm plenty good at being creative when it comes to killing." Akali declared confidently.

"What a wonderful talent to be proud of." Irelia scoffed, prompting Akali to punch her in the arm.

"It'll save your life and you know it."

"Whatever. Still, if anyone wants to back out, now is the time." She looked at them all, Nami in particular. The Marai just shook her head.

"Even if I said no now, something tells me I'd just regret it and come floating back. I'm in this all the way." She gripped her staff, which glowed lightly at the tip, lit by her resolve.

"As am I. Truth be told, I want to see the Demacian in action. That and I need to watch his back in case his over-the-top justice radar goes off." Yasuo turned to Garen, who simply pumped his fist enthusiastically.

"Likewise, Yasuo. Irelia has told me a lot of good things about you. I am also keen to fight by your side." His knighthood surfaced, making Yasuo chuckle uncontrollably.

"And I bet you just ate it up, like everything else she serves you." He surmised the knight and the dancer's relationship perfectly, at least a part of it.

"Why not? You all should try it sometimes, too. She's a great cook when it comes to preparing and serving favorableness, warmth, care and friendliness. People just look at her and see freedom, battle dancing, Ionian fervor and floating blades. Beneath the patriotic and the warrior parts, she's a wonderful and loving person." Garen spoke without so much as a stutter. The others stared at him, wondering if he knew what he sounded like. Yasuo just took another pain-inhibiting sip from his bottle, although it was more like a chug since he needed a lot of sake to drown out the sickening sweetness. Nami breathed out in resignation, giving up on Garen's empty head and incomprehensible ways with women, though a smile crept up on her face due to his honesty.

"Oh, no. Totally not like that all." Akali voiced her skepticism at the Blade Dancer. To her surprise, she got only silence. Irelia was unable to say anything, her only actions being a light blush across her cheeks and a look of admiration toward the Demacian knight. Knowing that she didn't realize what state she was in right now but also not wanting to ruin what was transpiring, more out of amusement than curiosity, Akali stopped her antics and just let things unfold. Before long, Irelia snapped out of it, pretending to look in thought. She was, but she wanted the others to think it was for the battle plan and not the knight in literal shining armor.

"Ahem. We, uh, better start getting ready. The Order won't wait for us to just attack them, you know." She made an effort to focus.

"Good idea. The sooner, the better. I'm tired of waiting and talking, from all sides. Time for some action." Akali brandished her kama, eager to swing it at some throats.

"Me and Nami should go first. We'll distract them in case they decide to trail us if they aren't already. Garen and Yasuo go next and beeline it for the arena. Akali, last one out gets the lights." Irelia weighted in on the plan.

"Why am I always the last line of defense for you idiots? Oh, that's right. I'm the only one that has a gram of reason swimming in her grey matter. Oh well. The glory will be nice after I save the day, come to think of it." The assassin stretched, ready to move.

"Try not to die, people." Nami gave a friendly piece of advice.

"Small chances of success, uncertainty of danger and outnumbered on all sides." Yasuo grabbed his sword and stood up, getting everyone's attention.

"Yeah… they got no chance." Garen cracked his knuckles and drew his sword.

"Move out, Team Justice!"

"… Still not called that." Irelia flat-faced it again.

"Yes we are, shut up." With Garen's final say the group got out of the room, ready and willing to carry out a dangerous mission, fight a grueling battle against numerous foes and move closer to their individual goals… or die trying to do the right thing.

* * *

Ahri's sitting cushion was currently the only thing comfortable about her present situation. The vastayan woman sitting between her and Sett was looking at her studiously and sweetly, discerning whether or not she was a perfect woman. At least, Ahri thought she was. She turned to Sett, whose large palm was covering his embarrassment-filled face, wishing his day would be over and his loving but overbearing mother would leave him be. He thought the world of her, but at times like these that view was challenged.

"Pleased to meet you, Ahri. My son's only now told me about you. I cannot for the life of me imagine why." She greeted a 'potential candidate', as Sett termed it.

"Likewise, ma'am. As to why your son's kept quiet about me, I imagine it's because we only met on the Navori coastal farmlands for a one-time harvest, the one earlier this year. Not exactly enough time to build a lasting friendship, even though he is a helpful farmhand. Those muscles are good for carrying heavy and filled-to-the-brim nets, at least." Ahri began her white lies, hoping to ease his mother down.

"Nonsense. He's just shy when it comes to making friends. Underneath the 'big tough guy' he is a cute little baby boy that's too kind for this land." She clapped her hands together adorably, making Ahri have a hard time staying focused, not to mention her beaming smile and perked lamb ears.

"Ma, come on! You want me to make more friends and your best idea for helping me with that is to embarrass me in front of them!?" Her son blew up, the crimson on his face out of both anger and mortification.

"Oh hush, sweetie. So, Ahri dear, where are you from?"

It silenced the atmosphere. Ahri looked to Sett, who just nodded while looking away knowing this was going to get more awkward before the end.

"I… don't really know, ma'am. I don't know who or what my clan is, where I belong or how many of my species are out there. All I have of my past are these." At the finish, she revealed two marvelous gemstones from her sleeves, showing them to Sett and his mother.

"Oh my… I've never seen anything like them. May I?" His mother asked, Ahri handing her the gemstones.

"Hmmmm…. Small traces of magic, wide-reaching as if searching for something… weak aura but strong presence of it… inactive. Strange. Very strange." She inspected the gemstones.

"You can tell that much just by touching them?" Ahri was surprised; no one, not even her has ever been able to tell her anything about the gemstones before this.

"You can't? Surprising, given that all vastaya can sense such energies. Or maybe you can't in particular. You're sure you haven't sensed any magic from them?" The mother asked.

"No."

"Now that is peculiar. Well, whatever the case, I don't know what to do with them other than telling you this." She handed the gemstones back to Ahri.

"What you told me is more than anyone ever has. Thank you so much. I…" There it was, the pang of gratitude that held her mind tight ever since she swore she would turn a new leaf.

"I need to repay you somehow. Is there anything I can do for you?" She sounded almost dedicated. Sett and his mother shared a confused look.

"You don't need to go that far, dear. I was just trying to help you, not get you indebted to me. Honestly, you and Settrigh both… friends need to help each other without any debt. You and your favors, my son and his money… No wonder you two don't talk to each other, despite needing to." She went off on a tirade, only calming down when she realized both her son and Ahri were starting to get uncomfortable.

"I've only known her a few days, ma, and that was months back. Can you not go overboard?"

"Hush, sweetie. My apologies, Ahri, if I made you feel awkward. You may stay with us for a while, if you want. I'm sure Settrigh over here would love to have you over. I know I do. His errand running and job hunting leaves us both with no familiar company, given how our kind are a bit ostracized here." She spoke a harsh truth.

"Ugh, tell me about it. If it wasn't for Sett, I would've made two dead bodies right below us." Ahri decided to ease up on the lies.

"What? What do you mean?" Sett's mother perked up, making Sett turn to Ahri with a silent growl to not push it. Ahri decided to risk it; no sense it not embellishing the story a little.

"Well, two jerks who thought I was easy pickings decided to annoy me. I got up, singing both of their clothes a little with my magic, growling a threat when your son came and stopped me. He stood between us all, advocating that violence isn't the answer to all our problems and we should all cease lest we cause a ruckus and get kicked out. The other two left without a word, though that might've been from seeing your tower of a son. Still, he handled it peacefully and without violence whereas I would've seriously injured or probably killed them. You've raised him well, ma'am." She finished, taking a sip of her fresh chamomile tea, courtesy of Sett.

"What can I say? Beneath the big, strong tough guy act, he really is the most adorable boy ever." She pinched her son's cheek, making him flail wildly.

"Just when I think you can't ruin my reputation anymore, that happens. Please, mom, just… cut me a big fat slack." He grumbled.

"Why? So people treat you just like your father? Look how _that_ turned out for him." That's when Ahri sensed it, deep beneath Sett's pent up anger, a tiny tinge of sorrow and loneliness.

"If it makes them leave you alone, then yeah. The old man did _one_ thing right, at least."

"Yes, that will fix all our problems. Ostracize them just like they ostracized us." It was starting to heat up.

"At least they're not hurting us again, ma. You remember those years?"

"Every single day. And here we are repeating them over and over again." Though their voices remained even, you didn't need to be an empath to feel the rising tension in the room. Even the disguised guards were starting to get antsy.

"Better that than the alternative." Sett was starting to growl a little.

"A world where everyone at least tries to get along and understand each other? There is _nothing_ better than that alternative, Settrigh." His mother's tone was turning scolding.

"It exposes us to them and their thrice-damned discrimination and stupidity!" And now the raised voices began.

"Well _someone_ has to do something. Might as well be us. And if this is what it takes to give you, Ahri and every one of our kind a better future, then I'll gladly raise my head from this horrid trench of ignorance and lies!" Even his mother wasn't immune to her own emotions.

"I'M NOT LOSING YOU TOO, MOM!"

The whole room was enveloped in silence after that one. Sett got a brief expression of regret before turning away to sulk while his mother tried but couldn't mask the hurt and shock. Ahri helplessly took their emotions in, almost breathing out all of the anger, fear, love and despair. It was a bit overwhelming for her, especially with the other patrons alarmed at Sett's outburst. The hybrid's feelings were powerful, but he suppressed and didn't broadcast them, making the sudden explosion take its toll on Ahri's senses. Amidst the swirling, she didn't notice the mother's feelings ease up the moment she saw her son's distress.

Her hand was on his head, one gentle caress after another. With each one, the hybrid's fur was smoothing down, his muscles relaxing and his growling less pronounced. The growing rage subsided in an instant, making Ahri feel a little more focused and her senses eased. The others turned to their own business once the Boss cooled down, knowing the storm cleared before it even coalesced. His mother didn't care about anything at the moment other than the hurting son in her sight, a feeling that wormed its way into Ahri's core. She had never felt anything like it, a little jealous and longing streak appearing in her heart.

"You won't." His mother spoke those two little words with such conviction they were almost improbable to deny. Her hand went down to his own, one gentle squeeze worth ten thousand reassurances to him.

"From the moment you were born, you've been everything to me. I know you're an adult now but to me you'll always be that little scrappy-kneed boy with dirt all over his cheeks and bruised elbows who came home laughing, crying and angry, who brought out the sun in the middle of raging thunderstorms, was a glittering gem in years of poverty and was nothing but helpful and loving to a woman who had no one. What kind of mother would I be to abandon such a person?" With every word spoken, the mixture of emotions inside Sett settled down, the hybrid growing steadily focused and balanced in turn. Ahri felt each change, her own powers and feelings flowing naturally along, igniting a thought suppressed since her childhood; the filial bonds of others and those around them. Sett's were strong whereas she had none.

"I know, mom. That's why I want to keep you as safe and happy as possible. To do that, I need coin, not friends. That's just how it works, nothing I can do about that. So please… let me take care of you just like you did for me." Honesty, love and compassion mixing with self-loathing and disappointment. All of those made Ahri wonder why he was the way he was. Something impaired his progress, something buried deep and personal.

"The coin part is fine… for us as a family. For you as a person, not always. Settrigh, darling, my sun, moon and stars, listen to me on this. People aren't there for you to use them or step over them while trying to climb to a better life. They're good, kind, afraid, angry and many other things. Just like your father was. Just like you are now." His mother smiled, booping his nose, making the giant hybrid recoil a bit in anger and embarrassment.

"Try and get along with them. I know many of them aren't that worthy of your attention, but many more _are_. The ones you build for, the ones that help feed and nurture this nation, they're the one that will not only help you, but also support you. All you have to do is ask them. Promise me, Settrigh. Promise me you'll ask for help. And when the time comes, promise me you'll help them in turn." She squeezed his hand one last time, looking her son directly in the eyes.

"I promise, mom." Despite his unwavering spirit to do so, something was stopping him from truly completely fulfilling it, something Ahri caught.

"That's all I need. Now, enough of this talk lest I lose my appetite for dessert. Ahri dear, do you want something?" The mother turned to the fox, whose ears perked up from the sudden attention.

"What? Oh! Yes, but I'm paying for my own food. Please."

"Oh, fine. What'll it be? I want the cherry pie slice, son. I assume you're having the-"

"Chocolate filling cake, duh."

"I'll just have a candied redpear stick."

"Fair enough. You two sit tight. I'll go place the order."

"What? Ma, that's what waiters are for." He raised his hand in signal, but his mother pulled it down.

"I could use the stretch. Be right back." With a tiny skip, she went downstairs, Sett eyeing his two lieutenants, a woman dressed in black with golden tattoos and a large armored man with wearing a conical hat to shadow her, leaving alone in a room with his business partners who were minding their own conversations and a fox vastaya who was unfortunately minding him.

"Your mom's cool." She said with a smile.

"What'd you-! Oh… Thanks, I guess." He revved up, but realized it was a compliment before the threat was out.

"Yikes… She was right about everything, though. It looks like you really need more people in your circle of trust." She decided to tread that needle.

"None of your business, fox." And it was a narrow needle, indeed.

"Business? Your mother was talking about relaxing and living, not working. Is this all a job to you? Making her happy and making sure she has enough?"

"Yes."

The way he said it, his emotions and expression, indicated this is what he believed it was. Was he really this far gone or was it how he was raised? She couldn't tell the difference and she needed to.

Why did she need to? Why was she this curious about him, this arena fighter criminal boss who tried to change for the better but couldn't get out of the literal pit he dug for himself? She knew the answer; beneath the façade they built around their beings, they wanted to be better, for themselves and the few people around them. In her case, though, she needed to do so because she wanted true company, true friends who could push through her powers and see the Ahri she was trying to show them, her true self and not the killer she was. No amount of cleaning, by time or otherwise, would wipe the blood on her hands away nor drain the massive oceans of it in her soul, but others could help her come to terms with it… and maybe, just maybe, find a way to do so at last.

"Well, now I'm definitely staying."

She took the courage to step on the needle's point.

"What?" And by the sound of his growl, it pressed down on him as well.

"Hear me out, ok? What if I help you find a way through this? Maintaining the lie while getting you used to the aspects of friends and a good life?" Her tails slowly perked at her proposal.

"Why?"

"Because I think that despite everything you've said, you deserve a shot at that life."

"Not buying that, foxy. Tell me _exactly_ why and take your time. I'm a patient man when it comes to business." Sett raised his eyebrow with a smirk, stretching his back a bit. Ahri let her guard down and now she paid for it. Or rather, she would haggle for it.

"That's why. 'Business'. You ever feel like you don't enjoy yourself while 'working', huh? Don't bother lying to me either, Sett. I'm sure you've figured out what one of my abilities is. You're a smart man, or at least have been in the game long enough to know the angles so you know I don't have any ulterior motives to my idea." She began negotiating, Sett hearing every word almost like a lawyer.

"Fine, fair enough. Still, I want to know why. Why you, of all people? We've just met and we barely know each other. Coincidence or not, mom's gonna catch on eventually that we're not who we say we are, at least in this regard." He countered.

"Because I'm curious about you. In all my years of wandering Ionia, I've always tried to understand both its human traits and vastayan ones. I've found out that vastaya tend to be the more emotional of the two but their rawness lies in their inherent chaotic nature. On its own, it's really rather miniscule in scope, reach and size. We aren't that prevalent throughout the continent anymore and we have only ourselves to blame. The humans on the other hand are not chaotic and not organized either. They're… scared, for lack of a better word. Of the world around them, of themselves, anything they can't understand really. But it's this fear that gifts them the ability to control their raw emotions, to stop and think and figure where they stand, what awaits them further, whether or not to go in that direction and how to overcome the obstacles before them. It's a trait I've always aspired to have; the ability to control my powers, my fear of hurting someone and the hunger in me. I envy them, in a way. They find strength in fear not because of fear itself, but because of who they are in the face of it. Most of the time, they seek to protect what they love and fight. Others flee, yes, but that's because they know their current strengths are not enough to help them and so, they need to run until they find a way to fight." Ahri slowly opened up to the hybrid, not breaking eye contact. To her pleasant surprise, he listened and didn't just brush it off. In fact, he seemed rather focused on the subject, not what she expected from a crime boss.

"And then there's you, a freak by all standards, no offense. You skirt the line between both worlds, raw vastayan strength of spirit and magic tempered by human emotion and focus. I suppose I'm saying… I want to be like you in some ways. Unfettered by guilt while still struggling against it and having the family to fight for and come home to… I want those things." She opened her soul, her golden eyes on his pinkish crimson.

"In that regard, I need your help."

A simple a reason as any.

"A simple solution to a long and complex problem? Really?" He was shrewder than he let on.

"As a start." She added. Sett just breathed in, contemplating his choices and influence. He didn't really know her or someone like her, strange, mysterious, inviting yet dangerous, cautious and burdened. He didn't much care for either humans or vastaya as a species as both were incredibly dull and fought for pretty much the tiniest things, but Ahri wanted to see the best parts in both of them despite their stupidities. It was both dismal and amusing… and it uncomfortably reminded him of his mother. He breathed out, looking the fox in the eyes.

"Dunno if I could, to be honest. The fighting's all I got."

"You have your mother."

"Not talking about that and thanks. I mean I'm not exactly a good farmer or builder. Hell, the only thing I know about buildings is that they're really roomy and need to have more support pillars or beams or whatever to make 'em work."

"Just like an idea in real life, eh?"

That question stumped him. After a moment of enlightenment, it all came rushing back to him; this is what his mother was talking about, the simple things making up a larger better one.

"Yeah, but people aren't beams or bricks. They need to move and very often they end up wanting to go further and having more. Eventually, they'll wanna separate and once they do, the whole thing falls apart. It's easier to just take what you got and leave whatever idiots stay to their fates." He concluded, realism still having a say in his decisions.

"If that's the case, why haven't you separated from your shady side?"

Again, no answer. He disliked the way she made him doubt but also couldn't rebuke or retort her.

"I have unfinished business on that end. That's all I'll say on that."

"Is there any way I can help you with that?" He looked at her when she offered, finding truth and genuine wish to help. She was a strange creature indeed, but she didn't lie or at least tried not to.

"Trust me, if you've seen what I'm into, you'd turn tails and never look back." He gave a simple warning smile.

"It can't be that inescapable, can it?"

"It's not about the inescapability. It's personal." He admitted. Ahri wanted to press more but his face turned a bit dark, like he was remembering a part of his life he didn't want to revisit but always haunted him. She had worn that expression a lot of times as well, though she had only caught a glimpse of it once on a moonlit pond.

"I might be able to help either way." She insisted.

"You never know 'till you try, right?"

Should he try? Distance himself from the desire- no, the _need_ to find his old man and smash his teeth in? Was there a way out from all of this? Should he reach for the door, knowing that he'd be leaving all he was behind him, all the people that depended on him and his business? True, he didn't like the violence, but a part of him still kept coming back, fighting and testing himself. It was the money, true, but there was something else he had to do before all of it ended for him. Maybe he could walk away and build a better life with his mother, but before any of that happened, he had to throw that punch at his old man… once he found him, that is.

"What'd you have in mind?" She grinned, glad that she was getting through to him.

"Well, to have a better idea of why you can't get out, let me see where you actually work. Don't worry, I'll be discreet. You know I'm good for it." Ahri suggested. Sett just scoffed in return.

"You want in as a VIP or as meat? " He looked a little smug. Ahri wouldn't back down, though, not when she was so close.

"Either or." She said confidently. Sett looked her over once more and nodded.

"VIP it is, then."

"Wait, what? No fighting?"

"You say you want to get me away from the pits. Well, how you gonna do that if you ain't alive? Besides, if you get in that arena and demolish every opponent in your way, you'd just be proving my point." He reasoned calmly. Ahri's ears once again perked up in realization.

"True enough. Alright, boss man. Treat this lady well, will you?" She extended a hand which Sett shook, taking care not to squeeze too tight.

"We're in accord, then. Looking forward to working with you, miss Ahri." He sounded both pleased at concluding a deal and smug that he'd prove her wrong.

"Looking forward to being friends with you, as well." She smugged back.

"Don't push your luck, chump." Despite it being a warning, he gave it with levity.

"I'm back, you two!" His mother, as if on cue, entered the room carrying their desserts, Sett and Ahri eager to dig in after a round of negotiating. Sett's mother took her seat in between them, eyeing them both.

"Hmmm… sensing a change in atmosphere here… What happened?" She picked up on the mood.

"Ahri's staying for a few days more. Said she'd try and find anything about those gems she showed us." Sett began.

"Yes, ma'am. And while I'm here, I'll be sure to visit your son and you every day. If I'm not too much bother, of course." Ahri clasped her hands as she finished.

"Stay with him forever while you're at it, would you?" Sett's mother smugly suggested.

"Ma!"

"Oh hush, sweetie. Eat up, the filling's dripping out." With that final say, the hybrid pit boss, his loving but oblivious mother and the wandering fox vastaya ate their food in content, gathering one final bit of strength for the day.

* * *

Business in the Xiao Guai was starting to pick up, a sign that the day was nearing its sunset hours. The arena would open soon, its boss eager to make some money. The fox beside him simply waited patiently to see where his choice in her life would take her. His mother went to their current staying house in Kashuri, watched from the shadows as always. The factories were nearing the end of their daily manufacturing quota, with the main complex finishing first, its shadowy guards on alert without rest, however.

In a seemingly dark alley, far from prying eyes, two beggars sat just outside a covered doorway. Hearing footsteps approach, they looked up, spotting two tall men, one large and one wiry towering over them.

"This the place? We're kinda late." Said the windswept-hair one. The larger one just kept quiet.

"Yep. Straight through there." The 'beggars' pointed to the covered doorway. The wiry one just nodded the large one to follow, tossed a coin to each of the disguised lookouts and went straight through.

"They were certainly lax." Garen commented on the cronies.

"They're just the cover. Inside is where it gets interesting." Yasuo commented, both of them walking through a clean hallway decorated with statues, paintings and with a larger doorway at the end. It was adorned with a tiger face with two bricks guarding it, not only against unwanted entries but also against undercover lawmen. Noise and tiny rumblings were coming from the other end, the sizeable doors doing little to stop them. Once the two approaching men stopped a meter in front of them, they stood at attention, studying them.

"You. Shiny man. Where are you from?" One of them asked.

"Demacia. What's it to you?" He knew he'd be singled out, but they had no choice.

"Demacians are pit fighters now? Color me impressed. Why are you here, shiny? Kingdom kicked you out for something?" The other finished.

"Something like that. I'd rather not talk about it, but it involved a few disagreements with the higher ups, to put it simply." Garen played the part of a deserter. It made him sick to his stomach, but he swallowed it down with all his strength for now.

"Yeah, them shinies don't know how to relax. Why Ionia, though? Real far away and you don't like magic, the lot of you." The first one asked.

"Better here than Noxus or Shurima. Freljord won't even accept us anymore, more out of pride than past." He didn't exactly lie on any account. Tensions between the nations have never been low. Ionia was the only one who wanted nothing to do with anybody and Demacia was surrounded by enemies it didn't want.

"True that. You look like a fighter, at least. Where'd you get the armor, though?"

"Used my last coin on it. Now, I need more."

"Understandable. Alright, then. You're good to go. And what about the wind exile over here? What are you doing here, runaway?" They asked in turns. Yasuo just shrugged.

"Playing the humble guide. And I need the money too. Drinks won't pay for themselves and neither will food." He took out his bottle.

"Hah! Ok, then. Both of you come on through. And don't mind the noise. Crowds tend to get riled up before matches. Helps with business, ya feel me?" The guards said before placing an individual hand on each door's side. With a heave, they pushed them open, letting what could only be described as a thunderstorm of roars and cheers as the air suddenly condensed and heated up, the light ahead nearly blinding the two entrees.

"Welcome to the arena, gentlemen."

* * *

The streets of the Fireworks District were crowded now more than ever, the people getting off from their jobs now sauntering through them in droves, buying their provisions for the rest of the day and the beginning of the night. Though twilight was approaching fast with the encroaching darkness, the daylight was still strong and its orange hues were still saturating the city and the skies. It was hard navigating them not out of the viscosity of the people, but rather of the distractions, many of which included firecrackers, screams of delight and joy, explosions of all kinds and shapes of animals from the residues and fire. Lanterns of all colors were being lit over the streets and on stores, almost as if bringing life to the buildings and roads. Through all of it, a warrior dancer and an aquatic vastaya moved, trying to reach their destination.

"Nervous, Nami?" Irelia asked the young Marai.

"A little. I mean, we are walking right into a factory stronghold of an organization that wants our heads. 'Calm and collected' isn't exactly my state of being right now. I just hope we make it out alive. I don't think they'll be taking prisoners this time around." Nami fidgeted a bit, floating beside her companion.

"As long as we are together, we'll be fine. Do you trust me on that?" Irelia wanted her to be as relaxed as possible, only so she could focus on what's ahead of them. She hated putting her in peril, but they had no choice this time around. She prayed Garen's plan worked or their rescue and possibly their journey would all be for nothing.

"I do." The Marai took her hand in reassurance and comfort. Irelia was starting to rather like the gesture, that simple touch always making her feel a little less alone in the world.

"Hopefully, our friendly stalker thinks alike too." Nami mentioned Akali, who trailed them expertly, always sticking to the shadows while never losing sight of them and scanning for trouble at the same time. No one getting in her way and freedom to remove those that got in her way, just the way she loved it.

"She's fine, she just pretends not to care. If she didn't, she wouldn't be here with us in the first place and it's because of her that we're doing this mission. I just wish she'd be more open about it." Irelia admitted her feelings about the rogue assassin. The only issue she had with Akali was her attitude, something they couldn't quite iron out.

"That's right, kettle, preach about the pot." Nami just laughed at the Blade Dancer. Irelia simply did a take, but recovered once she realized what Nami was talking about. She wanted to be alone as well, not have anyone get in the way when she danced, especially now that her blades followed along. Akali's job made it easier for her and she knew it, reveled in it and loved it. Maybe that's why they couldn't quite steel their bond; she was far freer than her and knew what to do with that freedom. That and she had fewer qualms about killing those that got in her way, sleeping heavier than Irelia at least.

"Using Garen's expressions, are we? How did you two become pals, anyway? You know he's adverse to magic, to put it mildly." Irelia asked, finally scratching that itch.

"Yeah, he's not on good terms with it, but he tries separating people and magic. Tries _really hard_, by the looks of things. I don't know if you've spotted it, but he still recoils on instinct whenever we two use our powers. He's trying to get it under control, though. It just takes a while." Nami answered one part, turning to Irelia for the second.

"As for the 'friends' part, he needed a little levity and I needed a familiar face close to home. I know their customs from their rare relations with the tribes of Targon, so I kind of had a good starting point. He did make me promise not to use my magic on him without permission, though. Understandable, given what he's been through." She concluded, her hand still holding Irelia's.

"I know. I'm working on getting him to open up to it a bit more. Not sure if this is the time to ask but…"

"I'll help for as long as I'm with you guys." No stutter or hesitation. Nami's heart rivaled that of Garen's in terms of kindness. No wonder they became friends so easily, despite Garen's issues weighing them down somewhat. All the more reason to help him get over them.

"Thank you. I have a feeling we'll all need you. And, if we make it, we'll keep our promise and help you find the Moon Aspect's host." Irelia squeezed Nami's hand in reassurance, earning herself a heartfelt smile from the young Marai. Trailing from the busy crowds and bright lights, Akali groaned at the affectionate sight, hoping they weren't too distracted. They approached the gates separating the Fireworks from the Foundry districts, two massive wooden doorways carved with a peacock and a bull, symbolizing the respective districts. Irelia and Nami admired them for a moment, taking in the grandeur and the artistry before continuing through the dwindling crowds and into the emptying forge quarters. They spotted the massive hexagonal complex almost immediately, its guard towers simply lit and its patrols stalking the walls like wraiths. The guards spotted the two women approaching as they readied their weapons and the complex suddenly rang out its warning bells. Irelia didn't have to see the crossbows to feel their arrows pointed at their heads. Nami tensed up quite a bit, gripping her staff tighter and discreetly and quietly readying her powers. A feeling crept up her spine, warning her about danger further on. Normally she ignored such feelings, but Garen advised caution above all else. Without anyone noticing, she removed the pearl beneath her staff, infusing it with a bit of magic before stashing it away beneath her skirt, a little backup plan in case something went wrong. Irelia looked up to see the massive steel gates creaking open slightly, a contingent of Order warriors emerging from the opening and surrounding them in a half circle. Throughout the ordeal, the girls never let go of each other's hands, awaiting the approaching events together. From the shadows a few dozen meters away, far up in the nearby low buildings' curved roofs, Akali watched vigilantly for any signs of assassins, having dispatched two on her way up to her vantage point. She had faith in herself, but Irelia could act a little out of place when it came to fighting. She learned her lesson against Jhin in Piltover, but still had it in her to charge in should her friends be in danger.

Friends… Even she had a hard time admitting it, but that's what these people were to her now. She found herself resisting the urge to do anything for them on many an occasion, but Shen's training paid off, holding her back from making questionable decisions. She was fine with them for now, but this was a dangerous path they were all on and while she intended to follow it to its end, she worried about dragging them down with her, something she had neither the patience nor the strength to do. Again she caught herself worrying. She had been doing that a lot lately. It didn't matter right now; she had a job to do and was getting distracted. The creaking stopped, the steel gates opened halfway and a second regiment standing behind the first one. Zed wasn't taking any chances, it seemed. She needed a window when she could slip in unnoticed by the guards, who were on full alert and watching for threats like jealous eagles.

"Order of Shadows!" Irelia, however, had different ideas in mind. Hearing her all the way from the rooftops, Akali prayed she didn't say or do anything profoundly stupid again.

"I, Irelia Xan, Liberator of Ionia, daughter of Navori and child of the First Lands, request an audience with your leader, the man known as the Master of Shadows."

Profoundly stupid was putting it mildest, it seemed.

"Uh… Irelia? What are you doing? I don't think this is how Garen wanted the plan to go. That and I don't feel like spending one more second inside one of their jails… or as vastayan sushi." Nami whispered to her. Irelia just nudged the Marai on the head.

"I'm altering it slightly. Trust me on this, ok?"

"Not that I don't, but I'd feel safer following the actual plan and stalling instead of entering the lions' den." Nami's hand was getting a little jittery, but Irelia simply caressed it with her own.

"Safety was off the table since we left the inn, Nami. Don't worry, though. I know what I'm doing." She slightly brushed her hair with her free hand, a signal to Akali to circle around back and find a soon-to-be blind spot. From her hiding spot, the assassin hesitated a bit before dashing off to the back of the complex, still praying to whatever gods were listening to lend the dancer and the Tidecaller their powers. The warriors were still keeping their eyes on the two, but one of them, a large fellow with a spear, whispered something to another, who ran towards the complex.

"Wait here." The large one said, eyeing the Marai cautiously. He seemed familiar to her, but she decided to focus on the situation at hand.

"Now what?" Nami whispered to Irelia.

"Now… we wait."

Zed and Kayn stalked the rooftops of Kashuri's Fireworks District, searching for any signs of the wanderers. They had received word that the group had left their staying inn and was now out and about throughout the city in disguises. Reportedly, they had split two by two and were headed in different directions of the city, one group stalking the alleys of the Fireworks District asking questions about the underground fighting arena. Onoki, more than eager to stamp out that particular mess, joined them in search of the group, leaving a sizeable force to guard the factory while she put her boots to the ground, the Master and the Apprentice on the high road acting as her eyes. Their search was mostly fruitless until they stumbled upon one half of the group entering an alley close to the border of the Foundry and Fireworks districts, the implications for them being rather unpleasant.

"This alley has been abandoned for quite some time, only weapon deals and a few needed kills here and then. Makes for a perfect spot to hide an entrance, don't you think?" Zed surmised the intelligence they had on the place.

"And why would beggars make their nest in an alley as notorious as this one? No coincidences here, master. This is no doubt the entrance." Kayn agreed, readying his scythe.

"Inform Onoki. I think she'll be most pleased and eager to-" Before he could finish, a member of their order ran up to them from below, getting their attention with a signal. Zed shadow-dashed away to his position, wanting to hear news from the foundry.

"Report."

"Master, the Liberator of Ionia has requested an audience with you."

"…What?" He had to make sure he heard right.

"She appeared on the foundry's gates, demanding to see you. The water vastaya was with her. We've seen no sign of the assassin or the other two."

"The Blade Dancer's at the foundry?" He processed the information; they clearly split up to cover more ground, but why did Irelia Xan suddenly expose herself like this?

It was a diversion. It had to be. If he were to refuse, however, not only would it set a bad example for the Order but it would also allow Xan free reign over her next move. He had an opportunity but also a risk, something the Liberator most likely saw as well. A dance of death, in which neither of them could afford a wrong step and when it came to dancing, she was far more skilled. Still, he decided to accept.

"Very well. Return and tell her I'll meet her there shortly." He ordered, the messenger bowing slightly and rushing away. Zed shadow-dashed to the rooftop once more, finding Onoki trying to climb up clumsily in her massive armor while Kayn barely held her off from falling, both angrily grunting at their predicaments.

"How… are you… this heavy… for a girl…?" Kayn heaved in between breaths, trying to pull the walking behemoth up.

"Think the question… you should be asking is… how are you… this WEAK for a boy?!" Onoki growled in frustration as she finally climbed up to the roof, trampling over poor Kayn who stumbled over from the sudden lurch backward.

"AND IT'S THE ARMOR, NOT ME!"

"… If you two are done, we have a task at hand." Zed's crimson glowing eyes suddenly seemed less intimidating with the way he rolled them at his subordinates' misfortunes.

"Ow, I'm gonna feel that tomorrow… What are your orders, master?" Kayn, still sore from the foot in his stomach and elbow in his chest, awaited his duties.

"Irelia Xan has apparently arrived at the foundry's gates and is requesting an audience with me personally." At his words, both of their eyes widened and their mouths dropped slightly.

"That little bitch! Let me go instead." Onoki almost pleaded, hand on her katana but Zed raised his hand.

"No. If anyone else goes, it'll be seen as a sign of weakness. Besides, should the two negotiators come to blows, I'd rather be one of them." Zed began reasoning.

"Negotiating? Master, with all due respect, you cannot be that naïve to think she has come to negotiate. This is either a trap or a stalling tactic." Kayn interjected.

"True, but we don't know what are they stalling _for_, Kayn, which is why it is better for me to take the bait. I might be able to find out what their plans are or if that fails, take a shot at capturing her. You two, on the other hand, will be better off on your own. Do you understand what I'm saying?" He looked at both of them, Kayn and Onoki sharing a look before turning to him a bit wider-eyed than before.

"Wait… No. Nononono no… No! I am not passing up the opportunity to duel Xan in favor of babysitting Edgelord over here-"

"We don't have time to debate this, Onoki! Every second I wait, I risk Irelia Xan getting away from us and returning to her group. This is the perfect setup for us to attack and keep them divided. You two follow this trail to its end. Apprehend the other two if you can, but should they prove a challenge, you have permission to kill them. You know the rest and what to do in case something goes wrong." Zed retracted his blades and turned away, awaiting their confirmation.

"Yes, master." Kayn agreed reluctantly.

"Fine, but you owe me." Onoki released her grip on her sword.

"Thank you. Good luck you two." With a wish of fortune, Zed disappeared into the shadows, reappearing on the other side of the river dividing the districts. Kayn looked on until he was completely out of sight then turned to Onoki, who was staring down the alley beneath them.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I just got up here."

"So?"

"We need to climb down to enter." The realization mauled Kayn harder than a charging drakehound, making him groan in utter contempt of what came next. He looked to Onoki, her vexing smile taunting him back.

"… So how's your day been, Edgelord?"

"Oh shut the hell up, you two-legged elnuk." With a final, meaningless but stress-relieving insult, he helped the armored girl climb down… the four-storied building they were on. He could already hear Rhaast laughing his lungs out even though he didn't have any.

* * *

The underground arena was encompassing, to put it in a single word. The near-endless roar of the crowds filling the air with bloodthirst and desire for carnage reminded Garen of his execution crowd back in Noxus. Were Ionians as vicious as Noxians or was that simply a consequence of the war? He wanted to ask Irelia but he had a feeling that would be a sore spot for her. Still, he shelved the thought instead of completely disregarding it. The lights emphasizing the drapes of different animals made it difficult to focus on such things right now. The large square pit was almost inviting, in spite of the bloodstains, metal shards here and there and the cracked dirt. A large metal downward-pointing pyramid hung, the square sides showing four different animals; a tiger, an eagle, a wolf and a snake. A smaller more ornate viewing stadium was built on top of the bleachers, where the VIPs sat, at least from what Garen could by the gaudy clothes they wore and the bodyguards surrounding the stage. In the center he spotted a large man with strange ears, a purple fur coat open down the middle and white pants sitting on a hefty wooden chair decorated at the armrests. A strange vastaya was beside him, her features that of a fox but with nine tails and golden eyes.

"So… he's the big shot around here, I assume?" Garen asked Yasuo. Both of them were on the opposite side of the ornate stage, where the fighter entrance to the pit was. The other fighters were readying for their matches, all of them eager to spill blood for their own gains and views. Yasuo looked toward the stage, spotting the hybrid.

"Yep. His name is Sett and he's the leader of this whole operation. The Boss is what people call him, turning a simple word into an entire title. Why, I don't know, but he seems to like it. A simple man, much like yourself." Yasuo wanted to take a sip, but Garen stopped him.

"People fight better when they're not inebriated, you know."

"I'm not 'people.' Anyway, where was I? Oh right, the rounds. Well, I asked around while signing you up and all I discovered was that the current matchups are divided in four divisions, which are Tiger, the group you're in, by the way, Snake, Wolf and Eagle. Each division starts with two fighters, one of which advances to the next round, which is a division fight. The one left standing is crowned winner and champion of the Kashuri branch. Doesn't sound like much to us until they mentioned the audience with the Boss himself. Powerful man like that's gotta know what's going on in this city, at least enough to keep his business going." Yasuo finished, denied his drink but not his levity.

"So… to get our info, all I have to do is become champion. Simple, but not easy." Garen summed it up.

"Time to see what you're made of, then." Yasuo just patted him on the back and turned to leave.

"Wait, you're not competing?" Garen asked.

"If I did, there's a guarantee we'd end up fighting each other. I forfeited that chance for now since this is serious. But if you make it out and we somehow get out alive…" Yasuo left the challenge open. Garen seemed the honorable sort to him, a little too honorable if he was being honest. The more he thought about it, however, the more he saw Yone's face instead of Garen's. He decided to stop there and leave the pit with a well-wish to his new compatriot. The other fighters left for their entrances as well, a sign that the whole event was starting.

"Good luck, big guy. Give 'em hell."

"Fear not. I'll teach them that justice comes full circle." Demacian to the bitter end, he was.

"Some things never dull… and then there's you." Yasuo just chuckled and left, taking his place near the more crowded areas to try and pry some info out some of the more prominent spectators. Garen simply took a deep breath, readying himself for a fight to the death.

"LADIES, GENTLEMEN, VASTAYA, HUMANS! WELCOME TO THE ARENA! Tonight is out cherry night, so to start it off we have eight bloody events just for you! The winners the preliminaries will advance to represent their divisions until a winner is crowned. But talk is cheap, my fellows! YOU WANT BLOOD! LET THE BATTLES…!" At the rather enthusiastic announcer's call, the gates opposite of Garen lowered as well as his own. His first opponent awaited at the other end, a whip-wielding woman with a large scar across her stomach and an eager face. He simply drew his sword and stepped out, letting the energy of the crowd wash over him once again. His opponent stepped out as well, the gates closing shut behind them. They eyed each other, the woman's rage and Garen's stoicism meeting head on.

"…BEGIN!" And with that call, they lunged at each other, the crowds cheering like rabid animals at the start of the first match.

* * *

Irelia was getting impatient, her crest threatening to split any second. The waiting was taking a bit too long for her tastes, even though seven minutes passed. The Order warriors simply waited patiently, almost eerily so. It appalled her how loyal they were to this man who used to fight the invaders but was now fighting his own people, but even she admitted to herself she didn't know the Master of Shadows or why he fought. One reason she wanted to speak with him was to see what kind of man he was and why he fought as fervently as her, yet lost sight of his original goal. Or maybe he changed it willingly? Either way, she wanted to ascertain the warning signs of herself becoming like him.

That's why she still held Nami's hand, even though she was a foreigner. Her ultimate goal wasn't fighting but peace, for herself and those that meant her homeland no harm. Before she could voice her thoughts, however, the messenger came back.

"Master Zed will be here shortly." He spoke curtly and fell back in rank. Irelia had questions about him, but the half circle of warriors suddenly stood at attention. Behind her, a man wearing an iron mask and clad in crimson-black clothing approached, his steps measured and precise. Though he was a bit on the short side, he was still looked commanding and imposing. No doubt he was the man known as Zed. He stopped in front of her, her back turned to his followers and the brave Marai beside her. The stage was set and the first act beginning.

"Welcome to Kashuri, Irelia Xan. My name is Zed and I am the leader of the Order of Shadows, as you have no doubt heard." He extended his courtesies, removing his mask and letting her see his face. Irelia was a bit surprised at how old he looked, despite his facial constitution. It was the tired look and the scars, or at least that's what she gathered.

"An honor to finally meet you, Zed. I wish it were under better circumstances." She saw no reason to be rude. Zed merely nodded in agreement.

"It needn't be so, Liberator. Many in my order, myself included, respect and honor your actions against our hated foe. In this time of change, we shouldn't be enemies." Zed advocated.

"Does that treaty extend to vastaya, too?" Nami spoke up, asking him a simple question with a difficult answer, at least on his part.

"What happened to your kind was unfortunate, but anyone who gets in the way of my order will suffer the consequences, human or vastaya." Zed warned the Marai, who looked unconvinced, much less afraid.

"Oh, save your crap for someone desperate to buy it. I saw what your quinlons did to these lands, what they're doing right now floating above the city like some warning signs. Must be nice keeping my kind away, huh?" Nami got braver, prompting Zed's warriors to turn a sliver of attention to her.

"Yes, it is nice keeping the murderous guerilla rebels away from folk who just want to work." Zed countered with a simple argument of his own.

"Work on what? Your weapons of mass destruction? Do you even know what a cannon does?" Nami began heating up, with more and more eyes on her, even Irelia's. From the distance, Akali almost growled out loud in frustration at her friends' poor negotiating skills. That is, until she saw the Order's lookout turn one by one toward the spectacle, making sure their leader was unharmed. One more tower lookout and she would have her window of entry.

'Clever, girls. Very clever.' She prepped her tools and got into position, eyeing a small section of the wall where a few bricks were loose enough to climb quickly and safely on.

"Of course. I have done my research. Perhaps you should've done the same on the vastaya around these parts." Zed remained calm despite his warriors' rising tensions.

"Oh, believe me, I know enough, Mister I-steal-magic-for-war." Nami raised her staff in defiance, making all eyes turn to her. That was Akali's cue; as the last watch turned their heads, she swiftly and silently rushed across the street and beneath the wall. Once there, she quickly climbed up the loose bricks and hopped over the wall, immediately rushing toward the nearest tower and quietly slipping through the door before anyone even thought about an intruder trespassing. Zed and his order were still focused on Nami, who calmed down after Irelia caressed her hand.

"It seems you only know one side of the story. Forgive me, then. I assumed you had knowledge on the matter. I exaggerated in my response. Still, I have not come here for you, vastaya." Zed continued, genuinely apologetic for his demeanor. He meant the vastaya no harm, but what had to be done had to be done.

"Too bad. Wherever Irelia goes, I go too." Nami almost taunted him.

"Enough of this banter, then. Why have you come here, daughter of Xan? I know where the rest of your group has gone. Surely you can't think this simple diversion is enough to sway my sight?" Zed decided to reveal his current hand. He spotted the slight recoil in Irelia's body even though she tried to hide it, knowing he had the upper hand. Still, she stared him down yet again.

"I do not. I came here with a few questions in mind. I have heard many things about you, a lot of which were inexcusable and horrendous. I wanted to meet the person- no, my fellow Ionian and see what kind of man does that to his own countrymen." She took a step forward, her gaze steel and mouth pursed.

"I want to see if there's anything redeemable in you." There was nothing but truth in her eyes. She truly believed in all of Ionia's children… which is what made her extremely dangerous in Zed's eyes. Idealism was a perilous drug in these times and she was not only one of the biggest junkies in Ionia, but also the source of it. Still, he had to find out what her true agenda was. Having a vastaya in custody also helped, though this one had a lot of fight in her, a far cry from the reports of her capture at the Temple of the Jagged Knife. At least they had them surrounded.

"Redemption, is it? From what, may I ask? Saving this nation from itself? Burning the old traditions that hold us back in favor of ones that elevate us above Noxus and all our other enemies? Pray tell, Blade Dancer, what do you seek to redeem me from?" He did, however, had enough of the self-righteousness of this immature brat and her pet fish.

"From whatever makes you say all of those things." This one confused him and it showed on his face. Luckily for him, Irelia was considerate in that regard.

"This is no place to have this conversation, Master of Shadows. Why don't we hold this meeting inside and in private?" She suggested, putting all of his warriors on alert. Liberator or no, they were not leaving their master alone with her. Zed, on the other hand, saw another opportunity in this; not only did he have the potential to find out what their plans were, but also to take a peek inside the mind of the Blade Dancer and people, possibly to try and find out what makes her tick… and put a blade in it.

"Very well, then. You're invited inside. Please follow me." The murmurs from his followers at his acceptance were of little concern to him right now, but he nodded in reassurance to them and to the watchmen and signaled for the gates to fully open, Zed moving past the girls and through the path his warriors made for him.

"…You're gonna get us killed, aren't you?" Nami whispered skeptically to Irelia, who just smiled in return.

"No… but I will see justice get its due, no matter which side the scales balance down." Irelia just smiled in encouragement, asking for the Marai's faith.

"…Jeez, no wonder you like Garen so much." Nami let out one last tease before following her inside.

"Quiet, you." Irelia shushed her jokingly indignant, focusing on the complex ahead of her. Three large structures defined the whole thing; the main factory where the weapons were manufactured, the workhouse where the workers stored their personal belongings and where the offices of Zed and the overseer were located and the storage facility, where the finished weapons were stored and ready to be shipped out. All of them were massive and distinct, the factory and its furnaces and chimneys, the storage facility's large doors and arsenals and the offices' ornate decorations and drapes depicting two golden shuriken, the symbol of the Order of Shadows. At least they didn't hide who they worked for. Maybe they even took pride in it, an idea that alarmed Irelia more than anything. How was she supposed to convince them all to stop what they're doing and think about what they've done before, the decisions that brought them here and the path they were currently on? Admittedly, she didn't know any of the circumstances behind them joining the Order, but it still didn't stop her from wishing to halt the infighting and self-rebellions in order to save as many as she could.

Would they even want to listen? Was this all for nothing? Were they truly walking into a trap? Only after asking these questions did she feel the warmth and tiny moisture of Nami's hand once again.

Was she leading another friend to her death?

Her crest began shaking slightly, prompting her to put those brooding thoughts away and focus on what's in front of her. They stopped before the doors, a large sliding panel set with a small light coming from the other side.

"To show our good will, we will now disarm. No weapons or anyone besides myself, the daughter of Xan and her vastaya companion will be allowed inside. Is that agreeable for you, Liberator?" Zed put his mask away and took off the two massive shuriken on his back along with the arm blades and several other knives on his person, handing them over to a nearby subordinate.

"Agreed." Irelia's crest floated down, slowly retracting itself into a sigil. Another subordinate of Zed's scampered up to her, carrying a small quinlon shard, just enough to depower the weapon but not enough to absorb the magic completely. They bound the shard to the crest, completely cutting off Irelia's connection to it, something she felt and was disturbed by.

"As long as the shard is on the crest, you will have no control over it. Once we are done, you will receive it right back. As for you, vastaya-" Zed began, but was cut off.

"The name's Nami." She introduced herself to him rather rudely.

"As for you, lady Nami, your staff, if you will." He motioned for her to hand it over, Nami doing so reluctantly.

"If I see one scratch on it… JUST ONE…"

"I assure you it will be handled with utmost care."

"Better than last time?"

"Yes. Now then, come inside. The rest of you, stay on guard." Zed ordered and motioned his followers away while and the girls stepped inside the room, sliding the doors closed behind them. It was actually Onoki's office, Irelia firstly noticing the portrait of her two-year old self and her parents.

"Who are they? The people in the painting?" She couldn't help but ask.

"The young girl is Onoki Saori, Kashuri's captain of its security forces. The others are her parents, Gao and Kumi. Only one of them is alive, no thanks to Noxus." Zed began the exposition, Irelia nodding in acknowledgment.

"Yes, I've heard. Wuju." She spoke the last word a bit quieter.

"So, you already know about her and her plight. I assume you know about her troubles and her resolve as well, then?" He sat down, motioning them to take a seat as well, Irelia gracefully taking hers while Nami struggled a bit, adjusting her tailfin.

"I know she is a skilled warrior… and, from what I've heard, at least, a troubled and pained soul." Irelia revealed a part of her hand as well.

"As is always with you optimists, you put things mildly. I think that's probably why she dislikes you greatly." Zed looked at her intensely, almost ignoring the Marai.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"She used to admire you, you know. When I first met her, training with her swords and developing her own style with them, she wanted nothing more than to join your fight against the invaders and slaughter them all, no matter where they were from. Loss and the desire to fill that void with vengeance will do that to a person, as I'm sure you'll agree. That was taken away from her as well, in a cruel and ironic twist, by _you_ of all people. You see, before she had the opportunity to join the resistance and do her part in killing the invaders, the war ended, Noxus retreating to their outlying last holdouts and abandoning the continent for the most part. You stepped down as war leader, leaving the once-proud Ionian resistance in order to pursue your own life and the roads it took you to. The rest of us, however, were left with nothing, no homes to return to, no families to love and no enemies to fight. You can imagine how lost many of us were. Through it all, I had no choice but to take them in, nurture their desires, hone their skills and give them purpose. And now here we are, the Order, the Brotherhood, this new underground arena… all of us moving on to different opponents…" Zed paused for a bit, taking a breath.

"And throughout it all, we've endured. We've flourished. We've grown in the heat of battle, tempered in the fires of war. Deny it all you want, but you have grown stronger as well." He finished, awaiting her response.

"Because I had no choice. But now that I do, I would happily turn away from all of it. Our foes have been driven away and we need not pursue them." She responded, every word slowly but surely agitating him.

"That's it? That's your answer? You've proven your strength and now you do nothing with it while our enemies grow even stronger than us? What's the point of that power if you're _not __**using it**_? What's the point of winning if they just keep COMING BACK?!" Zed's mind got the better of him, the scars both Noxus and Khada Jhin left on him opening up to spill every single one of his negative emotions and buried memories. Nami tensed up, but Irelia just listened, her face displaying nothing but concern and sorrow. Zed wasn't the first one she had heard these words from nor would he be the last. He was right in the idea behind them, but his tunnel-vision toward this goal left him blind to its consequences, as it did all those that walked this path. As with all of them, she could sense a personal investment behind these words, either a betrayal or abandonment. Maybe it was both, given how strong the outburst was.

"The point is to not become like them."

It gave him pause.

"Listen to yourself, Zed. Listen to what you sound like. A bloodcraving beast only seeking to kill those that wronged you. I was like that too, in my younger years. I've grown since then, seeking to protect those that desire peace and prosperity, those that seek to elevate this nation to greatness once again. And then there's you and those like you, still dictated by their past wounds and never letting them fully heal. You spit on respite and tranquility, not even realizing you need it the most. Have you ever stopped killing, Zed? Have you ever stopped hunting to reflect on your work and where it took you?" She sounded convictive, almost judging him for some strangely perceived crimes. He had never had the chance of seeing Irelia Xan up close, but now that she was in front of him, in her full glory and beauty, he felt strangely powerless to respond, but also inclined to listen. In his mind he realized that this was how she led the defense of the Placidium and the rest of Navori to victory; she was naturally charismatic and a born leader, but she wanted to be a dancer, a nobody, a normal person leading an uneventful life.

Why? What was the point of it?

"I have. The moment I did, I realized I was becoming like them, nothing more than a murderer who wouldn't stop killing. It didn't stop, though. Do you know why?" She looked angry all of a sudden.

"Because of people like you. When I stepped down, I thought it would all end and we would be free to rebuild. But then, the Brotherhood formed and began spreading their influence across Navori and beyond. They sent envoys after me, politely asking me to join. After the first decline, it was a call to arms and then after the second decline, it was a fierce demand. The third decline was final and the threats came afterwards. Do you know how I felt, Zed, reading those words, hearing the hate contained in them when the messengers spoke, hate that was once hope?" She waited for any sort of response in his stoic façade. Only a flicker in his red eyes, but no more than that, as if a stray thought passed through his mind and ran away.

"I felt despair, horrified at what my people, the ones I once fought beside, were becoming. I had my time to grieve and accept the deaths of my family, so I tried advocating peace and taking time to reflect. Instead, they kept on approaching, each attempt ruder than the last until finally, I was forced to use my blades. It was the first time I ever felt it, you know. The weight of their flesh, as Garen said. It felt horrible. I stained my honor, my name and my emblem and no matter how many times I tried, I couldn't clean the stains. Many reasoned with me, tried telling it was self-defense, that it was their fault and that they struck the first blow, but it did nothing to assuage me. I tried laying low, staying quiet, but they simply followed the ones needing help to where I was. There was no going back after that, Zed. And now, here I am, debating those same things with a man both in power and wielding a dangerous sort of it." She snowballed with her lecture, both Zed and Nami unable to do anything but listen.

"And that's why I preferred to talk with you instead of fighting you. I think your intentions are based on protecting Ionia, but your methods are the furthest from being the right ones to do that. In this time of uncertainty, we need to unite not to destroy our enemies, but to show them that despite their best efforts, we will not be broken or turn into them to defeat them. Your heart is in the right place, I believe that, but it is shrouded by your own darkness. Please, Zed." Irelia turned mellow, almost calm in the face of the man before her. She stood up, towering over him but wearing the most compassionate expression she could muster for a man like him.

"It's not too late."

He hadn't heard those words from anyone before. It was new for him and thus he had no response. He didn't expect to be talked down so easily by this young woman. Maybe it was his age, but her young perspective caught him off guard. With a few heartfelt and well-placed words, she made him wonder whether or not his current path was worth seeing to the end.

Only for a moment, though. There was no going back for someone like him. He would see this done or die trying to. Ionia could afford no more compromises.

"Kind words, daughter of Xan. Unfortunately, they do not work against Noxus." He began by stating a simple truth.

"An empire like that wishes to see the entire world be assimilated by them. They exploit any weaknesses, including your kind heart. Yes, I know of your capture and commend you on your escape, survival and return. Still, you have proven my points rather well; one show of feebleness and vulnerability and we are once again in Noxus' sights. I agree with one point on your end, however. We have to show them we aren't easily broken. But to do that, we need to bare our fangs… and I will sharpen them for us." He stood up as well.

"I will show them how Ionia can adapt. I will prove to them we are not some sheep you can corral and slaughter for food and sport. I will prove to our nation that we can beat them by ourselves and any who oppose us. I will open their eyes to the rest of the world and make them see that we can match it. We will take the weapons of our enemies and use them against them. We will outpace Runeterra's own vagaries and troubles. We will survive this world and we will make it leave us alone and respect us. Your original wish, I believe." He laid out his general plans for Ionia, matching Irelia's stature even though he was a head shorter.

"But to do that, we cannot afford to let our guard down. We are at war as long as Noxus exists. You know this. They'll never stop and neither can we. Therefore, if bringing the fight to our enemies is what it takes, I will gladly do so." He finished, calmly measuring her and awaiting her response.

"So… when the fighting's going on…" Nami began, finally speaking up and turning Zed attention to her.

"… Who are you going to protect?" She asked a simple question.

"Our nation."

"No no no. I didn't ask you that. I asked _who_, not what. Will you just fight for those that follow you or try and fight for everyone?" Nami clarified.

"Fighting for everyone's impossible." Zed stated another simple truth.

"Again you misinterpret me. I'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose. I know that despite the greatest and most valiant efforts, saving everyone's impossible. After all, here we are trying to save you." She began, the last part taking Zed by a little surprise.

"I know how it sounds and believe me, after that last warm reception your order gave me, I wouldn't have even bothered. Irelia, however, insisted that we talk with you and I respect her more than I dislike you. Don't bother asking why. You wouldn't get it. What I will ask is what's stopping you from doing so anyway? What's stopping from being a noble symbol for your followers?" Nami rephrased her question. Zed was even more confused now, making Nami let out a frustrated breath.

"The example for that is right in front of you, Zed. I'm from the seas around Targon, having travelled literally to the other side of the planet to fulfill my mission of saving my people. And yet here I am, helping the one that helped me. She didn't even know me and yet she did the right thing, risking her own life and that of her friend in the process, who also volunteered, by the way. I could've easily parted ways with them then and there to continue my mission, but I didn't. I asked them for assistance regarding it and they offered it gladly. In turn, I promised myself to never turn my back on them and help as they helped me. They're…" She paused from her speech, looking at Irelia, who just smiled and extended her hand, a gesture Nami learned to love and accept. The light grip was starting to feel warmer with each repeat.

"… They're my friends. I will never abandon them. Would you say the same for those that helped you? Would you save them in return not out of debt but out of kindness, knowing they don't share your goals and beliefs and never will?" She asked, awaiting the Master of Shadows' response patiently. Something in her brought out her latent bravery, bolstered further by Irelia's speech and actions. She just hoped it was enough to simmer Zed down and make him forget about the fact that they were on his turf. He looked away for a brief moment, contemplating an answer. Then he turned to them again, a look of regret on his scarred face.

"Yeah. I knew that would be your answer." Nami was not surprised by his expression. People like him were trapped by their own doing and it was for this same reason that he couldn't see the shackles that bound him. Unfortunately, those misguided convictions were a source of great fortitude for these people.

"I am sorry. I did try. If I'm being honest, however, the reason I invited you here was to gouge information out of you. Though you will provide me with not even a clue, I will still detain you." He spoke, raising a hand. On his signal, his followers opened the doors and surrounded the girls.

"Told ya he wasn't gonna let us leave…" Nami put her guard up, not letting go of Irelia's hand. Irelia turned to Zed with a disappointed face.

"You don't have to do this, Zed."

"But I must. I cannot allow you to taint Ionia's realities with meaningless idealism." He shadow-dashed away to his subordinates, who brought him his weapons and his mask, the Master of Shadows swiftly arming himself, putting his mask on and standing ready to fight.

"You are unarmed and outnumbered. This will be easier for all of us if you surrender peacefully." Zed's eyes flared up, him and his warriors ready to take on _the_ most dangerous target in Ionia, despite her being without her weapon. Irelia simply breathed out, looking to Nami in approval. The Marai's confusion was the sign; from beneath her long hair, hidden carefully even from Nami, she revealed a single blade shard from her crest, just as she did when in Noxus. Though it was a lone sword, it had a great effect on their would-be captors, Zed in particular immediately drawing his arm blades and focusing his shadow magic. She turned to them, a sole steel feather at one side and a faithful friend on the other.

"Last warning, Master of Shadows. Leave well enough alone."

No fear or compromise; the Blade Dancer stood ready to fight. Tucked away beneath her new skirt, Nami gripped the pearl, its stored magic ready to be unleashed. Opposite them, Zed and his followers stood ready, all of their weapons drawn and stances taken.

The air grew heavy, condensing from the opposing wills of the mage women and the pariah ninja, palpitating in their lungs like a drum of war, slowly accelerating its rhythm. A few weapons started to shake among Zed's subordinates' hands, eager or fearful of combat with their targets. Irelia stared at Zed, who didn't blink nor break eye contact, both awaiting the other's first move.

One last deep breath, one last weapon grip, one final thought before the plummet into oblivion…

All was broken when the explosion from the foundry shook the complex.

Irelia was the first to react, flinging the blade shard at Zed's neck, who simply moved to the side and dashed towards her, ignoring the confusion of his warriors and swinging a blade at Irelia's face. Blocking it with her shard, she aimed a kick to his head, making him duck and swing at her grounded foot, dodged expertly by her with a swift leap. He looked up just enough to see her smirk.

"Nami, NOW!"

He barely noticed the Marai aim the pearl at him, unleashing a massive torrent of water in his direction. A simply shadow-port away moved him out of its path, recovering easily from the sudden stagger.

"Not quick enough, vastaya." He taunted, hoping to discourage her further after her failure. All he got was another smirk.

"Wasn't aiming for you, smart-mouth."

The realization came too late to him; he turned to his warriors to see them knocked aside… and a broken quinlon shard lying on the ground. He barely had time to pull his focus through before the flying blades found his throat, putting a hair's breadth between them and it in the nick of time. As the Xan family crest found its way behind Irelia's head, Zed readied his shuriken, the remaining shadow clone preparing a copy of it as well. Thinking she was unaware, he flung them from both sides, one at her neck and the other at her spine. Irelia simply realigned her blades in a circular defensive formation around her body, blocking both shuriken with ease.

"Is that all?"

"For the beginning, yes." At his words, he suddenly split into another shadow and dissolved into one himself, all of them approaching Irelia at demonic speed. As she steeled herself, he rematerialized behind her, slashing at her thigh while his copies did the same at her arms and stomach. All of them managed to put a scratch on her through her formation, which Irelia felt and wondered how they were getting through. She broke the defense and redirected the blades straight at Zed, who simply swapped places with one of his shadows.

"_Now_ that is all." He simply spoke, waiting for the true moment of surprise. Irelia felt strange inside, like worms of smoke suddenly invaded her body and were merging into a giant blade. She steeled her body, but couldn't avoid an attack from the inside of it, having no choice but take the blow. At her side, Nami stood helpless without her staff and unable to help her friend, forced to watch as Irelia suffered.

"No. Stop!" Nami just yelled out, but Zed's shadow magic descended on her and broke out from her body… which suddenly engorged and shone bright red. She radiated a small outward blast, knocking Nami down and Zed back.

The shadowy blow didn't reach Irelia, whose body was now enveloped in a giant red sphere which made her grow in size and strength. Zed took a step back while Nami floated near her, unsure if she should touch her. Irelia straightened up, eyeing Zed viciously. Throwing out a blade at one of his shadows, she lunged at him slashing away. He dashed to his other shadow to avoid the blade juggernaut, only to find himself stabbed in his hamstring by several blade shards; another blade had flown over to his blind side, separating into smaller blade shards and firing them toward the other blade she had planted. He was staggered, but could still feel the embedded shard guiding his foe to him, Irelia charging straight into him with her blades in front. He brought his arm blades up, blocking her strike, but unable to hold back the force as he was knocked on his knees. Before he could see where she was, he felt a hand on his throat, barely registering his surroundings before feeling his entire body flung in the direction of the door, crashing at his recovering men. Once the ninja was indisposed, she turned to Nami.

"You ok?" Nami just looked at her as she asked that question, seeing the now-engorged Blade Dancer literally staring her down. As she looked her over, she spotted the gauntlet on her right arm shining and glowing red.

'So that's how that shield engulfed her…' She surmised.

"Nifty glove, Irelia." She couldn't help but comment. Irelia looked at Sterak's Fist, thanking whatever power blessed her with it and helping Nami up.

"Got it in Bilgewater, if you're asking. We should visit together sometime, eh?" She levied the situation.

"Shopping spree next year, then?"

"Only if we get out alive. Come on." She dragged the Marai, slicing through whoever was foolish enough to stop them and ran out in the hall.

"Wait! We need to find-"

"Your staff, I know. Can you sense it?"

"I can. This way!" She took the lead as they ran down the stairs, coming up on another sliding door. Nami grabbed the handles, but Irelia just eased her out of the way and sliced the screen doors clean, revealing four surprised ninjas and Nami's staff behind them.

"Bad day for you, morons." Nami splashed one with the remaining magic in the pearl while Irelia cut down the other three. Retrieving her staff, she put the pearl back on the low tip and turned to Irelia, who was still glowing with power.

"What now? And what was that explosion earlier?" She asked.

"Akali." Irelia just smiled at the assassin's endeavors, another explosion shaking the complex as if on cue.

"Come on. She's gonna be swarmed once she gets discovered, if she hasn't been already." Grabbing the Marai's hand for what felt like the thousandth time this day, Irelia rushed through the office building floor, cutting down any assailant along with Nami smacking them with torrents of water. They reached the exit, pushing the doors open and meeting with a bright orange light.

The foundry was aflame, the rising smoke starting to eclipse the faint lights of the stars and attract a lot of onlookers. The Order warriors were rushing to the blaze, trying to salvage, put out fires and help the ones injured and caught in the initial blasts. Others were trying to keep the bystanders away. The spare security force had a hard time dividing itself to manage the tasks without its captain to direct them. All in all, it was utter chaos.

"Well… she's a certified genius when it comes to destruction, isn't she?" Nami commented.

"Didn't know that part about her, honestly. Still, she might-" At Irelia's comment, several alarms of intrusion were sounded from the rear end of the foundry, the only part that was still not leveled to the ground.

"-get herself in trouble? Yeah, I get the feeling she does that a lot." Nami spoke, readying her staff. The girls rushed toward the rear end of the foundry, unseen in all the chaos and arriving just in time to find Akali backed to the wall surrounded by Order warriors, fighting them off one by one and receiving a few cuts and bruises for her efforts.

"GET OFF OF HER!" Nami got their attention with a scream and a massive water bubble scooping a large group of them up, slamming them down and disorienting them, making them easy pickings for Irelia's blades and Akali's kunai. After they were dispatched, the girls rejoined their assassin comrade.

"You just can't help blowing stuff up, huh?"

"Is that your way of saying you missed me?"

"No… but I did anyway." Irelia and Akali did a small fistbump while Nami just hugged her when her guard was down.

"Ah! I said no hugs!"

"Too late, I love you."

"Ugh! Seriously, though. We gotta move before-" Akali began, but another group surrounded them, poised to strike. Behind them, three more were on their way, already drawing their weapons.

"-they find us again. Dammit." She readied her kama.

"Us three against a whole lotta ninjas. Not my first choice of a fight." Nami readied herself reluctantly.

"It's us or them. No going back." Irelia gave them what resembled a pep talk before splitting her crest again. As they were rushed, a flurry of arrows came down on the trio from the guard towers, forcing them under Irelia's deflecting blades. Akali threw out her kunai at the rushers while Nami unleashed a jumping torrent of water at their assailants, sweeping them away or enabling Akali's kunai to hit with deadlier precision.

"Under fire from all sides and all attention on us… Eh, where's Thunder when you need him? I could use a beef wall right now." Akali complained while lodging her kama inside an unfortunate ninja's chest.

"We can handle it. Also, not a word of this to him, got it? I don't want him breathing down my neck about rash actions again." Irelia focused the bulk of her powers on blocking the arrows, all the while lending a blade or two to her friends here and there. Once they had enough of a clear view, however, they spotted the Order moving large steel pipes covered in cloth out of the storage buildings.

"What the hell… Wait, are those the-"

"Cannons, yes! We have to stop them!" Akali was in danger mode as she began searching for a way through the oncoming onslaught. Surveying their surroundings, she surmised their position; they were near the exit, the cannons quickly being hauled out while they were under pressure. Behind them, the last large furnace of the foundry lay open, just waiting for a modified hand-made bomb. All she needed was the reload from their archers, an opportunity that came when they fired their next salvo.

"When I tell you, drop the blades and make a beeline for the cannons! You too, fishy, you gotta keep up!" Akali barked while grabbing a large number of smoke bombs in one hand and a bomb in the other.

"What?! What are you-" Irelia couldn't finish as the Order warriors were right on top of them. Akali tossed the bomb with all her strength through a glass window, the bomb landing at the furnace's leg.

'Five…'

"NOW!"

'Four…'

Everything was a blur, part from the adrenaline and part from the smoke bombs. Akali lobbed with such force on the ground that they choked some of their assailants on impact. Irelia dropped the shield and charged toward the exit. Nami sped herself up using her magic, almost keeping up with Irelia in sheer speed with Akali taking one last glance behind. The archers were prepping their arrows.

'Three…'

"KEEP GOING!" And they did, almost reaching the doors.

'Two…'

The archers' arrows were nocked and loaded in their crossbows, aiming them at the three without cover.

'One…'

"…Boom."

The massive explosion rocked the complex once again, the flames and debris providing cover from the archers, who fired and missed wildly. The crippled furnace leg gave way, spilling the massive fire pool right on top of the building's wall, melting it and any unfortunate enough to be caught in it. The battlecries gave way to agonized screams as many liquefied and burned alive.

"Nice one, Akali!" Irelia managed to blurt out.

"They're not getting through that!" Nami glanced back.

"Just keep going!" Akali snapped them back as they reached the wide-open gates.

"Which way did they- There!" Irelia pointed to the weapons being carted and pushed away.

"They're heading straight toward the Fireworks District… All those people there…" Nami blurted out in a haze from the burning fumes, but Akali shook her back.

"Fishy, stay with us! We'll save them, but we gotta move **now**!"

"R-Right. I'm here. Wait, what about Garen and Yasuo? One of us has to-"

"There's no time. We have to stop the weapons from leaving the city. Thunder and Yas can handle themselves. Don't worry about them and focus up 'cause we need you right now, Fishy." Akali reasoned with the shaken Marai, who just took a moment to compose herself.

"Yeah… Yeah, you're right. Let's go. What's the quickest way to cut them off?"

"Through this alley. Follow me." Akali took the lead as Irelia and Nami trailed right behind her. The Foundry District was now on full alert, with the rest of the authorities swarming the complex and trying to put out fires, contain the massive melt leak and search for survivors.

On top of its roofs, Zed climbed up, his iron mask shattered and his face filled with pure rage, scanning the city vengefully for any signs of the trio. It was the assassin, it had to be. He thought he was leading them into a trap when all the while he was the one being trapped. He spotted the column of cannons heading out through the Fireworks District, but no sign of the three assailants.

With a roar of fury heard throughout the Foundry District, he shadow-ported away and began running toward the Fireworks District, his howl almost echoing in the now-fully eclipsed starless night, the only source of light being the enduring flames of the manufacturing complex.

* * *

"AND THAT'S A VICTORY! WE HAVE OUR TIGER REPRESENTATIVE!" The announcer spurred the crowd as Garen's opponent fell at his feet, the Demacian warrior turning away to leave.

"Now hold up there, champ! All newcomers have to have a name or a title! TELL US YOURS!" At the call, the crowd silenced almost in unison, a few murmurs expecting the name of the champion of the Tiger Division.

"Garen of Demacia! Remember it!" He yelled out to the crowds.

"WHAT IS THIS?! FOLKS, WE HAVE A DEMACIAN HERE! WE FINALLY GET TO SEE HOW THE FABLED UNDEFEATED KINGDOM FIGHTS!" The announcer went wild with the crowd following soon after. It really did appear the world beyond knew little of what went on in Demacia. It wasn't really their fault; Demacia preferred its privacy and isolation. He had a feeling that would soon change, though. He turned to leave and take a moment of respite, the moments he valued most.

From the main stand, Sett and Ahri watched the spectacle that was the opening fight of the evening, Sett in particular satisfied from the money this new guy brought in. Both were a little surprised when they heard where he was from, though, Sett thinking the guy must be a glory-seeker while Ahri wondered how a Demacian found his way to the other side of the world.

"He's good. Real good. He doesn't waste moves and is always one step ahead of his opponent. He's a bit on the patient side, which is not a real crowd pleaser, but a win's a win. Diggin' it." Sett commented on Garen's fighting style.

"What's someone like him doing in Ionia? As far as I've heard, the kingdom of Demacia is far in the west, beyond Noxus and the free kingdoms. Why is he here?" Ahri asked, genuinely befuddled and curious about the Demacian warrior.

"Who knows and who cares? Oh, right, you do. Otherwise you wouldn't be asking. Well, if he survives and wins, you can ask him in private after." He placed a hand on her shoulder, predicting what her next wish would be.

"Don't bother my fighters in between fights. Yes, that's a rule." He calmly but sternly warned her, Ahri forced to shelf her nosiness for now. She instead decided to focus on the beast-man beside her.

"Alright, but that just makes me question you more. I hope you're ready." She spoke coyly.

"Hey, it's why I gave you the VIP pass. It was up to you to accept it and you did. Honestly, I'm kinda getting worried that you haven't spoken a word since you got here? Blood too much for ya?" Sett relaxed a bit more in his chair, ordering drinks for them both.

"It's not the blood but the energy behind it. I've roamed Ionia for so long and I've seen traces of it here and there, buried deep inside everyone, human and vastaya. I just didn't know it was this abundant." She commented, a little uneasy about the grander implications of that statement.

"It's not like Ionians weren't fighting each other before Noxus, y'know. I mean, my mom's been around a while, mingled and spoken to vastayan elders and even they don't know the full history of our dumb country. What's the point of going forward if you don't know whether or not you're actually going backward?" Sett offered a little wisdom, astounding Ahri quite a bit.

"Huh… Didn't know you could occasionally make a lot more sense than an elder." Ahri commented, pleased he wasn't a total simpleton.

"I have my moments, I just prefer to duke it out instead of talk it out." Sett grabbed his drink, offering Ahri hers.

"Why? You don't feel trapped by all this? Don't you want to escape… to be with your mother properly?" She asked, sipping almost adorably.

"I could, but that's not gonna bring us any money." He stated a simple truth.

"There are other ways to get money."

"There are, but most of them involve begging or working for someone else, someone that has almost complete control over you, meaning they get to work you over for however low a pay they want. Trust me when I say I'm a lot comfortable where I am." Set drank his fill, focusing on the next match.

"Fight's about to start. Wanna watch or talk? I can do both at the same time, don't you worry." Sett was still courteous to his new fox companion.

"BEGIN!" The crowds roared at the two warriors, a Noxian deserter and an Ionian vastaya prisoner began fighting for their lives.

"I'm fine with both, as well." She said as the announcer finished, observing the two combatants closely; the Noxian was like a cornered wolf, fighting with everything he had, his wild swings of his axe and sword threatening the vastaya, an agile girl with a raccoon tail and goat horns. She didn't have claws which is why she was forced to fight with daggers, each barely deflecting the Noxian's blows.

"Big guy's fierce, huh?" Sett commented.

"Yeah, but he isn't gonna last very long." Ahri observed how tired the Noxian was getting after every missed strike.

"Yeah. Bet he's gonna put his weight behind one last attack and then she goes for his throat." Sett predicted what was going to happen next. Sure enough, the Noxian brought both of his weapons above him, gathering his strength but also exposing his neck. It was all the opportunity the vastaya needed as she slashed his throat, the Noxian having just enough time left in this world to register the cut as he collapsed in a heavy heap. The crowd ate it up, however, and many cheers were had for the vastaya.

"Ah, Noxians. They never get it right, do they?" Sett just commented.

"They act mighty, but I think they're just as afraid as the rest of us. It's a pity that side of them only comes out when faced with certain doom." Ahri agreed. She had killed plenty of Noxians back in during the war, stragglers that preyed on helpless villages and people. It was easier to sate herself with the invasion; the Noxians had little qualms about killing people so she had far less killing them. Still, now that she gained a little humanity and compassion, she had a hard time seeing anyone die, not just Noxians or those that deserved it. Despite her craving it every once in a while, she would never go back to draining others' lifeforce. She would only move forward, master self-control, integrate as much as she could with society and finally forge meaningful relationships. And here she was, being tested as Sett challenged her to try and find something wrong with the arena, a place for those seeking glory in ways she abhorred.

"Sometimes, it's all anyone has left, you know." He spoke as the Noxian's body was dragged away, the raccoon girl going back to her side of the Arena.

"AND WITH THAT, WOLF DIVISION IS OUT! STICK AROUND, FOLKS! THE NEXT FIGHT IS DECIDING WHO GETS TO ADVANCE TO THE FINALS!" The announcer bellowed, inciting the crowds even further.

"Doesn't it get boring for you? Watching and fighting all the time? Don't you wish you'd do something worthwhile?" Ahri asked.

"Such as?"

"I don't know, building, writing, training others… Don't you want to have a legacy of creating instead of destroying?" She prodded for any reaction.

"I'm not much of a… any of those things. Fighting's all I got. Well, that and cooking. Momma insisted and I can see why. Good food is important for keeping up strength and endurance." Sett finished his drink, ordering another.

"You? A cook? Figures since you're the biggest momma's boy I've ever seen, figuratively and literally. I bet your favorite thing to eat is pork rinds and red lettuce on the side." Ahri took a gander and a jab at the hybrid.

"Damn proud of it, too! Also, yeah, that's my favorite." A bit pinkish in the face from anger and embarrassment, Sett still puffed his chest out.

"Yeah, I got that from the first twenty times you responded to any kind of comment about her, beast-man."

"Just in case you forget, foxy." He winked, pleased at himself. The contestants took their places, the Demacian warrior known as Garen against a Bilgewatian former ganger known as Jimmy Eat-Legs, a freak with crooked teeth, a cleaver for his left hand and draped in what looked like fish scales.

"THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH ADVANCES TO THE FINALS TO SQUARE OFF AGAINST THE EAGLE DIVISION REPRESENTATIVE! COMBATANTS, ARE YOU READY?!" At the call, Garen and Jimmy just raised their weapons.

"BEGIN!"

Jimmy was the first to strike, swinging his cleaver the moment he was in range of his foe. Garen simply blocked it with his sword and pushed him away, swiping at his feet which Jimmy jumped over. Another swipe went for his neck, Jimmy ducking over it only to find a knee to his face, breaking his nose and staggering him. Garen lunged for his liver, but Jimmy recovered just enough to dodge to the left and swipe at his neck in return. To his surprise, Garen simply caught the cleaver and pulled him toward his sword, the massive blade going through his stomach. Blood poured from Jimmy's mouth as Garen pulled his sword out and with a swift spin cut Jimmy diagonally. The Bilgewatian's body registered the slice two second later as his upper half slid of his lower one, landing on the ground with a sickeningly squishy thud as blood gushed out of both. Garen merely swiped his sword, sheathed it, bowed to the corpse and walked away, not waiting for the announcement of victory.

"THE DARING DEMACIAN CLAIMS ANOTHER VICTORY! WILL HE BE OUR NEW CHAMPION OR WILL THE EAGLE DIVISION AND ITS VASTAYA CHAMPION BE THE VICTORS?! DON'T GO ANYWHERE, FOLKS! THE FINAL MATCH PROMISES TO BE A SPECTACLE UNLIKE ANY OTHER!" And with that, the cleaners rushed out to gather the parts and clean the blood. Sett simply nodded in approval.

"He's gonna be the one." He said confidently.

"What makes you think so?" Ahri asked.

"He has something to win here. I don't know what, but his fights all have purpose behind them. Every one of them was just a job to him, despite the flair and honoring. I could tell, I was like that once too. Trust me, foxy. This one is different." He took a long gulp from his drink, observing the Demacian as he headed to his part of the arena. He turned to Ahri, eager to see what she had for him after that.

"What did you think, foxy? About the Bilgewatian, I mean?"

"Him? He was overconfident. He probably confused the Demacian for a sea monster, prey he is used to gutting while dead." Ahri deduced the dead man's reasons for his demise.

"Good eye. How come you're better at gouging others' weaknesses than you are at guessing their strengths?" He asked.

"An ability I developed in order to… survive." She felt discomfort talking about it. Sett, however, just looked at her curiously.

"What?" She spotted it.

"Just tell me, will ya? You know I won't judge." That part was true as well. She sighed and continued, something in her chest eager to be set free.

"I used to steal essences from humans in order to live. Overtime, however, I was able to do so on without it. In the process, however, I turned it into an addiction, unable to stop myself. I just kept eating, extracting their souls at the height of their ecstasy. No matter how much I got, I just kept wanting more… until… Well, you get the idea." Ahri now realized why she didn't want to talk about her bestial side to anyone; the shame she felt confessing these things even to a person such as Sett made her feel disgusted at herself. It was the fact that this came too late to her, after all those victims lay dead at her feet, drowning her in an ocean of their blood. She looked to Sett, who just waited for her to continue.

"Since then, I resolved myself to never harm an innocent and even for those that deserve pain and death, I tend to make it as quick and painless as possible for them. No matter what, I will not give in to my horrid and debasing self ever again." She confessed, eager to be accepted and understood for who she was trying to be rather than what she used to be.

"Good on you, I guess." He sounded so nonchalant about it.

"Huh… not the response I was expecting." She was a bit baffled.

"As long as you don't try that crap on me, my people or my mom, I'm cool with it. Otherwise, you're gonna be left without a head." Sett stated matter-of-factly. Ahri just nodded once, getting the message loud and clear.

"Still, I gotta say it's nice that you turned the thing holding you back into the thing pushing you forward. Must feel good to be able to tell the difference…" He looked contemplative all of a sudden, a sign that Ahri read as unusual for someone like him.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Well, my old man… You know what, never mind. Just forget it." His emotion mixture returned, the sadness mixing with anger and abandonment creating a deadly jumble of confusion and unresolved emptiness. Ahri tried to search through for answers, finding only rage with only the slightest hint of reason.

'His father left… his mother and him… his love for her… So that's what it was!' She finally had the answer, growing a bit bolder because of it.

"Your father." She grabbed his hand, making him turn.

"What about him?" He sounded angry, like he wanted her to make this quick, not something he did at the beginning and for the duration of their evening.

"He's the one holding you back. Just hear me out, ok?" She tried soothing him, letting go of his hand as a sign of truce and trust.

"On our way here, you said you entered the arena to find him, right? You never said why, though, but now I know. You want to have him answer for abandoning you and your mother and for leaving both vulnerable to the prejudices that plague Ionia. If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be here in the first place, trapping yourself in this closed circle of 'one more match' and 'rise to power'. You think with every fight, you get closer to him, but believe, you only run further away from yourself." Ahri reasoned, carefully weighing every word as to not upset the half-beast further.

"Oh, are you for real? I can get out whenever I want." He got defensive as Ahri predicted.

"Yes, but as with any junkie, the cost would be too high for your conditioned system. You wouldn't know what else to do and would just come back. You said the former yourself." She continued, not afraid anymore as she knew who he was and what was eating him up.

"That. Won't. Happen. I'll find my old man, sock him in the face and then get right back home to mom. Both things done and everyone's satisfied… except for dad." Sett cracked his knuckles, but Ahri didn't break her gaze.

"It's not that simple and you know it. Your mother may be kind, but she's not stupid. Sooner or later, she'll find out. What'll you do then, Sett? Will you make excuses, try and fix the shambles you'll leave her life in or come back here, looking for solace that isn't there?" She confronted him with the things he didn't he'd been avoiding. Naturally, he got angry.

"The hell did you just say?" He growled, but Ahri didn't back down.

"You heard me, beast-man. You know what I'm saying, but I'll spell it out for you anyway; you have to choose. That's right, you can't have both." She narrowed her eyes a bit and pursed her mouth downward, fully displaying her intent to him.

"It's either your desires or your mother. What's it gonna be?"

For the first time in his life, the hybrid was left speechless. He always had an answer, a fist to back it up and a few smack words afterwards. But no one, not his bullies, his elders or his mother had left him quite as speechless as this fox vastaya in front of him. He knew exactly why that was; she was right. Every single word that came out of her mouth in past few seconds hit him exactly where it hurt and he felt it like nothing before. It tempered him, his rage smothered and his pride humbled as he looked back, his rose-crimson eyes easing up. Her golden ones let up as well, knowing she finally got through to him.

"Ugh… I don't know." He was finally honest about his troubles, with himself and her.

"You're… you're right. I wouldn't know how to start or where to go. Fighting's all I'm good at." He confessed. Ahri just smiled back.

"That's what I used to tell myself, as well, back when I murdered others for food. You start feeling like if you stop, you'll fall apart, like the addiction's the only thing keeping you together…" She knew the feeling of helplessness quite well, surrendering to your craving and letting it grip you, screaming at you that you're trapped and can't get out.

"What changed?" He wanted to know, almost desperately.

"I… I broke down. I had to. Once I was in pieces, my mind was finally able to expunge the poison and piece itself back together… for the most part. I know that's not what you want to hear, but that's the only way. Well, the only way if you're alone. I had no one, everyone that tried to help me, that… that loved me…" Flashes of raven-hair, a smile as his hand painted, soft lips, light leaving his eyes… Fragments still, not the whole memory. She would recover it eventually, maybe enough to remember his name… all of their names.

"I went into self-isolation, emerging years later to a different world but with the same memories and the same pain. I used it to make a new start and see where it led me. As you can guess, the first thing I needed to find was where I came from and what my tribe is. My travels led me to Kashuri, not because I followed clues but because I had nowhere else to search. And then I happened upon you and your mother, who helped me without question-"

"With several questions, actually." Sett corrected her.

"-Right. Awkward ones, to be honest. Still, the kindness of others helped bring me closer to my goal, even if it is one step. What kind of person would I be if I did any less?" She perked up again.

"So that's why, should you ask, I'll try my best to help you." She finished, patiently awaiting his response.

"I dunno… Think I need some time to figure things out. Can't just up and disappear on my people, y'know?" Sett refused for the time being, settling back in his comfy chair, getting to watch the next match.

"Fair answer. Take as long as you need." Ahri turned her attention to the fight as well.

"So, now that that's done, what do you think about the next fight? Who's gonna win?" He asked her, taking another sip.

"Between the vastaya and the Demacian? I can't tell, honestly." She admitted, focusing on the two contestants now entering the arena.

"Whaddaya mean? Can't you read them?" Sett asked.

"That's the thing. The raccoon girl, what was… oh right, Kayo. She's a survivor, meaning she'll do anything it takes to win. She uses all of her emotions when she fights, but she knows when to hang back and think. The Demacian, though…" Ahri looked thoughtful.

"What about him? I told you, he's got a purpose."

"Do you know what that it? Because I don't. I… can't read him, Sett. I don't know whether or not he puts on a mask, hides his emotions willingly or has some sort of shield around his mind and heart, but he just doesn't radiate the aura that I see around people. It's strange. No matter how hard I try, I can't gouge his true intentions. You said the winner of the match gets an audience with you?" Ahri explained, asking Sett about the grand prize.

"That's right. Why, you think he might be here to kill me? Not gonna lie, I kinda hope so." Sett smacked his fists together, cracking his neck and stretching his legs out.

"Gonna be a hell of a workout, if not an actual fight. Like I said, this guy is good." He looked eager, like a predator eyeing a challenger.

"Just be careful. I don't know what's he doing here, but if it comes to that, I have your back." She offered.

"I didn't ask you to, though. Why?"

"Because that's what friends do, Sett."

"So it's official?" He asked with a big smile on his face, both coy and happy.

"I guess, I mean I think so. Yes? Yes it is. Wait, was it not before?" She got a bit confused by that one.

"Not for me, but it is now. Anyways, fight's about to start. Let's see if Justice Boy over there can beat Knife Badger Girl." Sett leaned in to get a better view.

"Raccoon."

"Whatever." He finished his second drink, crushing the glass without so much as a scratch on his skin. He felt something in the air at that moment, an energy build-up like no other. Maybe it was the rising roars of the crowd, hyped up for one last match of glory and violence. Maybe it was the newfound purpose he had been given by Ahri. Maybe it was the two contestants preparing to fight it out 'till death or glory. Either way, leaning was not getting him the view he wanted. He stood up, walking over to the edge of the stands, taking in the sight of the restless crowds, the lit-up rectangle filled with holes, cracks and dents and the deafening noise of everything happening at once.

Tonight was gonna be a good night.

* * *

The hallway leading to the arena was empty of life save for one woman, cleaning her dual katanas as she stood over the corpses of the watchmen, each with singes, cuts and a few torn off fingers and an arm. Patience was never her strong suit and having heard that the head honcho of the entire arena operation that's been causing her trouble had arrived, she was getting even more aggravated to put him down for good. Kayn had gone on inside with his shadow powers in order to scout the situation. At that moment, his figure manifested from the other side, coming through with ease.

"Well?" Onoki didn't waste time asking.

"I've scouted the- Wait, you killed them? Out in the open? Does the word 'subtlety' mean _anything_ to you?" Kayn was surprised that this is the method of entry she chose. They separated in order to draw less attention, but Onoki just tossed that plan in the garbage.

"It does. Wanna know what? 'Pointless'. That's what it means to me. Now did you find either our boys or the leader of the op?" She started grinding her katanas together, making sparks augmented by her magic.

"Ehhh… As I was saying, I scouted out the arena. The head of the operation is there, but he is too dangerous to take on and too protected by his lieutenants. The others are also there, the armored man fighting in the arena while Yasuo is lurking in the crowds, watching his back and trying to gather info on us, particularly the foundry. Our best bet is to move in quietly, wait for the finishing matches to pass then strike and retreat." Kayn laid out what he observed, preparing his scythe for combat, the Darkin inside eager to spill blood and empower himself.

"**About time. I was wondering whether you still had the guts to actually order the attack.**" Rhaast hungrily called out to him, Kayn doing his best to block him out.

"Crash the party, cut off the snake's head and nab the flies. I like it. Didn't think you had it in you, Edgelord." Onoki was impressed by how daring his plan was. For all his talk of subtlety, he was eager to spill blood more often than not. All of a sudden, she wished she saw this side of him more often.

"Stop smiling like that. You're making me think you like me and I am honestly uncomfortable with that thought…" Kayn shuddered a bit at her demonic grin.

"Aw, look at you, making a girl blush." She shoved him rather forcefully, the poor apprentice nearly falling over.

"Please don't. Ever again. Anyway, we'll have a small window before they notice the guards are missing. The last match is now starting and the Demacian will most likely be tired afterwards. If we manage to detain both Yasuo and the leader of the arena, we'll have a shot at capturing him." Kayn regained his footing, slightly opening the arena door to peek in, letting the howling noise of the crowd pass through.

"Got it, Edgy. Wait… Did you say Demacian? The armored man is from the west?" Onoki was surprised at how a man like that survived Runeterra and the trip all the way to Ionia.

"That's what he said he was when they demanded he introduce himself. Judging by his demeanor, the way he holds honor when he fights and the respect he gives his foes afterwards, he most definitely is Demacian." Kayn surmised the info.

"Dueling a Demacian… Hmmm…"

"Don't even think about it, Onoki. We need at least one of them alive and he's our best target. Restrain yourself against him, but hold nothing back on the others." Kayn simply ordered, hoping the captain would at least consider listening.

"Oh, fine. After you, Edgy." She motioned as Kayn took the lead and opened the doors, both of them slipping in quietly and blending in the crowds and just in time to hear the announcement of the start of the match.

Beneath them, the arena was immediately filled with weapon clangs and grunts of effort as Garen and his opponent, the vastaya named Kayo clashed. Blow after blow, he swiped, faster than her previous opponent, even forced to use her strength to block a few undodgeable strikes. Unlike the Noxian, this guy wasn't getting tired anytime soon, only stopping for a few seconds to take a single breath and then continue his onslaught. One diagonal swing later, her daggers were knocked out of her hands by the sheer force behind his strike, forcing her to dart around and retrieve them, barely dodging a swing from him once she got them. There was no tiring him out; one chance was all she would get, so she waited patiently for her moment. He reared up for an overhead strike without exposing his neck, forcing Kayo to dive to the side, Garen putting a massive crack in the floor with the missed blow. The raccoon vastaya jumped up, seeing the golden opportunity on the left side of his neck, aiming a dagger with lightning speed at the sweet spot. Her entire world stopped, however, when Garen's head swiveled at her and caught the dagger with his teeth, gripping tightly down. At her moment of surprise, he knocked the other dagger from her hand, staggering her enough to expose her abdomen. One swift sword strike was all it took for that surprise to turn into another, then pain and finally… nothing. Her lightless eyes closed as her body hit the ground.

"BY THE STARS AND THEIR FORGER! WE HAVE A NEW KASHURI ARENA CHAMPION!" The announcer was the loudest he's ever been, the crowd losing it at the end of the match, composing itself long enough for them to start chanting Garen's name as the tiger emblem drapes of his division unfurled in the arena's four corners. From the stands, Yasuo watched in content at his comrade's triumph, wondering what the next move will be. They still hadn't managed to find any info on the complex. The only opportunity for that was up on the ornate stands, smiling to himself.

Sett just watched on in content, turning to Ahri with a knowing grin, the fox rolling her eyes at him.

"Told ya he'd win."

"Yeah yeah. What happens now? Will you go down and give him the title or will he come up here?" She asked, still antsy about the Demacian.

"I'm going down there, actually. I have a few things I wanna discuss with our Kashuri branch champ. Sorry, Ahri, but you can't come. Even businesses like this have formalities." Sett stretched, grabbing the railing of the stand.

"Talk to ya later. Relax, it'll be fine." With a final snap of farewell, he jumped over the railing, landing in the arena floor with a large quake, getting the attention of the crowd, which somehow got even louder and the Demacian's as well, who turned to the hybrid, watching him.

The two legends now stood eye to eye, Sett a few inches taller than the already large Garen, both measuring the other in terms of strength, fortitude, skill and power. Garen was rather impressed by the man before him, curious as to whether this strength was magical or physical, given that he spotted the wolverine ears on his head. He didn't look like any other vastaya he encountered, his features being more human than anything. On the other side, Sett was intrigued, taking a better look at the Demacian; Ahri was right in not being able to read him completely. He did have skill and could hold his own, even against many, but there was something unseen about him. He didn't look aware of it, either, or maybe he tried to hide it. Either way, he didn't use his full strength. It was shelved for now as the crowds were not showing any signs of stopping. Sett just raised his palm, slowly deafening the cheers to murmurs and the occasional scream of joy.

"Oh, who am I kidding?! ONE MORE TIME FOR OUR CHAMP!" At his request, one last cheer erupted as he turned his palm into a fist of victory. Garen just stood there, waiting patiently for the spectacle to end.

"Congrats, Garen. Nice fights, by the way. Diggin' the simple yet powerful style. Not many appreciate that in Ionia." He congratulated him.

"Name's Sett and I'm your new boss. Don't let that scare you. I take care of my people, make sure they're comfy and fed. The rest is up to you, though. You gotta earn your keep." He laid out the gist of the arena rules.

"An honor to meet you, Sett, but I'm not here for a job." He stated, looking the hybrid directly in the eyes.

"Oh? And what're you here for?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Information. I went through a great deal of fighting to meet you as I understand you know how to get around the security forces around this city. As champion, I believe I have the right to an audience with you. Does this count?" Garen told him everything. Sett was a bit bewildered by his attitude; he was as honest as could be, but he was also direct, not caring for whoever listened to them or where they were. One had to respect that kind of determination, Sett gladly giving him all the kudos Garen earned with his moxie. Still, business was business and he couldn't just dole free info on a newcomer, particularly one such as him.

"Sorry, man. As much as I respect your victories, things don't work that way here. You gotta earn the info with time and dedication. Given how you did today, though. I'd say that won't be a problem for you." Sett shrugged his shoulders. He had to make sure where they both stood, despite what they could do and how well they could fight.

"I need it now." Garen didn't budge. The respect rose but so did the need to level it down. They were in front of a crowd after all.

"Sorry, pal. Doesn't work that way anymore. That being said, you're welcome to leave if it's not to your liking. Gonna be a real shame should you do so. Haven't had someone like you in a long time." Sett turned to leave. Maybe it was something trivial he needed, like how to get to a place unseen or who goes where and how can he find them, but reputation was reputation and underground businesses like his needed a lot of it to survive.

"So be it, then."

As the end of his reply, the Demacian's sword flew past him, embedding itself in the wooden doorway. The entire place went eerily quiet, everyone at the edge of their seats, Ahri subconsciously preparing an orb of magic, Yasuo's jaw practically on the floor, his sword hand finding its way to the hilt on instinct. No murmurs, cheers or boos, just tense silence. Even Kayn and Onoki, lurking among the crowds, were surprised at the sudden event, mostly because it meant they underestimated the Demacian; he could still keep going and more than likely throw their plans out the window. The only ones with a straight mind during all of this were Sett and Garen, the Demacian staring at the hybrid's back while the beast-man's muscles tensed, his hands balling into fists. He looked at the sword and then to the door with a forming grin on his lips and a wild look in his narrowed eyes.

'Finally… come on, say it.' He was glad there were no mind readers to hear how desperate that thought sounded.

"Sett, as a competitor in your arena, winner of this even and champion of the Kashuri arena branch…" Garen began, his voice rising with each word, echoing throughout the silent arena. Sett almost started trembling with excitement, barely keeping it under control as his fists tightened hard enough to almost draw blood from his hands.

'Come on, just say it. Don't make everyone wait!' Most of his teeth were visible now, though how they didn't break from the pressure they put on each other, no one could guess.

"…I, Garen Crownguard, son of Demacia and warrior of justice...!" The strength of Garen's echo started juddering glasses and bottles a bit.

'Just. SAY IT!'

"… challenge you to a duel! Do you accept?!"

There it was. At last. Sett just took a deep breath, yanked Garen's sword out of the door planks and tossed it over to the Demacian, his challenger and soon-to-be opponent. Garen caught the sword and stabbed it in the ground, awaiting his response, the visage of a proud eagle manifesting itself behind him for a brief moment before vanishing. It wasn't real to anyone but Sett, the hybrid not quite understanding what he just saw but not caring either. He pulled out two bladed brass knuckles from his pockets and slammed them on his fists.

"Yes I do."

The brief moment of silence was truly enjoyable for him, mostly because of the energy that built up during it. That few seconds between serenity and destruction came afterwards, Sett breathing in as much as he could during them.

The upsurge of cheers followed afterwards, the bloodthirsty masses flying in a frenzy of chants. No announcer was needed to hype the sudden event up as the tiger banners furled up, one single huge banner draping down behind Garen as he faced his foe walking toward the center of the arena. Behind Sett, another gigantic banner unfurled, this one depicting a golden wolverine. The Boss didn't pay much attention to any of the unfolding happenings around him, only wanting to get the show started. Once he was three meters from Garen, he flipped a stray hair back, straightened his coat and cracked his neck.

"Why now, champ? What's so important that you can't wait?" He asked his opponent, genuinely curious as to why Garen challenged him.

"My friends are depending on me. I won't fail them." Garen pulled his sword from the ground and took his stance. Sett stared at him, gouging for any lies in those words. There was nothing but truth in them.

"Friends, huh? I'm new to that concept, honestly. Eh, won't matter much in a few seconds. You ready to give them the show of a lifetime?" Sett smashed his knuckles together, a loud clang resonating through the arena.

"Whenever you're ready. One way or another, you _will_ tell me what I want to know." Garen steeled himself. From the stand above, Ahri was at the railing, observing each motion carefully, her magic orb subsided but the rest of her powers ready to flare up at a moment's notice. Yasuo watched from the crowds, hoping that both Garen and Sett would be alive at the end of the fight. He didn't take his hand of his sword, knowing that this was the least likely case.

"Shit. Now what?" Onoki asked Kayn, both of them still lurking in the shadows.

"It's fine. The plan's still a go, but we need an opportune moment. Either when both of their full attention is on each other or when one of them goes down." Kayn observed, improvising the plan a bit.

"Fine, but I go first." Onoki put her hands on her swords, slowly igniting them with her magic.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Kayn gripped Rhaast, the hungry Darkin barely managing to control itself from trembling with excitement.

In all battles, fights and skirmishes, there is a small moment of anticipation felt by both fighters; it lasts for a few unfelt and unnoticeable moments, imperceptible by anyone but the fighters themselves. It connects them with a thin but strong thread, sharing their instincts and intentions with each other. Garen and Sett learned much from that small moment, how neither would relent to the other and they had a lot to win and lose from this fight. Moments like these were brief, though, their time usually signaled by a sliding drop of sweat on each fighter's face… and Garen's and Sett's were at their chins. It detached, the fall lasting an eternity, a long breath of one last lull of serenity… before finally, the drop hit the floor.

The legends lunged at each other and in one tenth of a second, sword and knuckles clashed.

A gigantic shockwave exploded outward, breaking the floor beneath them and knocking the nearest five rows of spectators down, the others barely keeping their footing. The flags were blown away as the upper stand shook, Ahri and the others sitting there grabbing anything stable near them. Ahri's tails flared up in danger instinctively before the fox managed to contain her natural fear of the power the two champions radiated. Yasuo had a hard time staying up as he was in the front row, knocked to the floor in the initial clash.

"Holy shit…" It was all Onoki could utter.

"What… What are they?" It was all Kayn could ask.

"**Worthy…**" It was all Rhaast could say.

Garen and Sett pushed against each other with all their might, shattering the floor beneath them and creating widening crag that went all the way to the sides of the spectator stands and bleachers, cracking the concrete walls in half. Neither of them cared; the one in front of them was everything to the other now, steel and determined gaze meeting a wild and hungry one. As the clash broke, they both began swinging at one another, all of Garen's swipes being intercepted expertly by Sett's punches. Each clash resonated slightly, creating even more aerial waves. At one clash, Garen put his weight behind his sword, pushing the hybrid in, who raised his knee aiming at Garen's abdomen. Knocking the Demacian off balance, he went in for two punches, landing them perfectly across his chin with the right one having more force behind it. As it connected, however, Garen pushed it off with his own face, grabbing it before Sett could retract it and swiping upward at the hybrid's neck, Sett barely dodging to the right before the sword cleaved his arm off.

"Missed." Before he could finish being smug, Garen's pommel found its way to his cheek, knocking him back and separating the fighters.

"Alright, maybe you didn't. Nice one." He smiled, his beast heart pounding wildly and filling him with energy. He charged at Garen once more, fists seemingly burning with energy as he swung at the Demacian, each blow driving him back. At the fourth swipe, Garen deflected his fist on the side and went for his legs, Sett expertly dodging with a jump and dropkicking Garen further away, giving himself space to jump to his feet… or so he thought. Garen suddenly charged straight at him, prompting Sett to raise his arms in an attempt to block the sword strike. It never came as Garen smashed headfirst into his nose, staggering him and allowing Garen a clean swipe, putting the first scratch on the half-beast across his upper front shoulder, making the crowd go wilder. Sett looked at the wound, smiling even wider.

"A scratch! Finally… The one…" He looked at Garen, who stood ready to fight, ignoring the pain on his face and seemingly healing it back up. Sett stretched out his arms, the fighters now circling one another like wolves.

"We could've avoided this, Sett." Garen stated simply, sword hand tightening the grip.

"Yeah, but that would ruin my rep. Besides, don't tell me you're not enjoying this. You were bred to fight, I can tell." He smacked his knuckles together, extending a challenge to the Demacian.

"I fight who I must, not who I want!" Garen spoke as he charged the beast-man head on, another clash rocking the arena, the floor in complete crumbs as the combatants clashed on the dirt beneath it.

"Bullshit! A part of you likes this and every single one of your moves screams it. You're a fighter, Garen. You'll live and die as one!" Sett pushed him off as he rocked a foot in Garen's stomach, the Demacian recovering just enough to see the beast-man aim a charging fist at his face, knocking him further back, Garen staying on his feet by sheer force of will, something he had plenty of.

"I live as I choose, Sett. Neither you nor anyone else, god or mortal, has a say in that." He looked Sett dead in the eyes once again, standing straight and sword pointed at him.

"Talk's cheap, Justice Boy. _Show_ me if that's true!" With another challenge issued, Sett once again leapt at Garen, the Demacian intercepting him in another duel.

As the two legends dueled, Kayn and Onoki waited, ascertaining for the opportune moment to reveal themselves. As Sett got knocked off backward, he regained his footing perfectly for a giant leap forward, catching Garen off guard figuratively and literally. His hands around his neck, he carried the Demacian forward before lowering down and leaping high into the air. Twirling the struggling Garen with one hand, he eyed his destination; the dirt beneath them. Putting both of their weights into the slam, he dove straight down with a spin, carrying Garen back first into the ground.

"THE GRAND SLAM!" Sett yelled out as he smashed Garen into the dirt, obliterating the ground beneath them and leaving a cracking crater below with many of their spectators off their feet from the quake once more. A dust storm kicked up from the force, blinding all audiences temporarily with everyone struggling to see what is transpiring in the ring… or what was left of it.

The dust settled, revealing a kneeling Sett with his hand on Garen's throat, who was sprawled out on the dirt.

"Looks like you're all talk and no glory, Justice Boy. Now then, why don't we-" A massive fist connected to his jaw before he could finish his taunt, slamming him back and away from the hurting Garen, who powered through the pain and charged the beast-man. Sett brought his guard up but Garen to his surprise started spinning rapidly, a steel whirlwind now approaching Sett who barely deflected a few swings from it.

"I will not FALTER!"

Garen didn't stop, only accelerating in his spins, the beast-man barely able to keep up, receiving a few cuts on his stomach, forearms and legs. Garen suddenly stopped, using the descending weight of his sword to balance a strong kick to Sett's chest, sending the hybrid flying backward. Before Sett could recover, Garen charged straight in, the pauldron Illaoi gave him suddenly boosting him forward to deliver a titanic shoulder slam to the beast-man, bringing him down to one knee with Sett using his hand to grind himself to a halt. Garen was surprised at the sudden burst of speed he received and decided to test it out one more time. Seeing the half-breed staggered, he reared back and accelerated forward, feeling himself hit ramming speed, readying his sword for one last decisive strike; he would aim it at a non-vital area as to not kill the beast-man. He still needed the information.

Sett, on the other hand, began glowing bright golden, the fur on his coat beginning to wildly flail along with his hair. His muscles tensed and every fiber of his body pulsed with power. He stood fully straight, looking at the charging Demacian straight in the eyes, their bodies threatening to be blown up by their very own strength of will. He balled his right hand, gathering all his remaining might into it, ready to throw down against Garen for one final blow. Garen didn't stop charging, his lungs giving out a mighty battle roar as he kicked up an entire storm of dust behind him. Sett matched his roar with his own, rearing his left foot and right arm back.

The spectators panicked, many of them starting to run towards the nearest exits while others had moved to the far ends of the arena. The only brave soul to risk his life staying near the ring was Yasuo, who somehow managed to find his courage throughout the apocalypse unfolding before him. That or he was straight up suicidal.

The upper stand was completely vacated save for one fox vastaya who looked desperately toward Sett. She had heard the others call out to her, but her legs couldn't move just as much as her eyes. The sheer fury of the half-beast overwhelmed her, awakening a fear inside she never knew she had. The only thing that countered it was her crushing worry for him, unable to do anything to help him. Those two clashing emotions inside her froze her in place as they battled, Ahri being helpless to do anything but watch.

One final thundering shout, one last surge of power and a true intent of victory from both champions enveloped the crumbling arena as Garen and Sett, legends of Demacia and Ionia collided; Garen leapt forward, carried by the augmented artifact on his shoulder and swiped at Sett's arm. It connected true, his swing cleaving his chest… which neither bled nor were torn open.

In that moment of surety, Sett swiveled around protected by his own power, rearing his right arm for one heaven-shaking punch. Garen's widening eyes and mouth was all the opening he needed; he threw everything behind his right fist, the Demacian's last act of defiance being to throw his left arm up in defense. And then, the fists connected.

A divine wind, an explosion, an elder dragon's roaring breath… All of these together were still not enough to describe the utter **annihilation** that occurred.

The force blew away what was left of the side stands behind his target, blasting the doors behind open and the tiger flag loose of its hinges. The bleachers were completely demolished from the resonating wave as the upper windows on the building shattered, raining shards upon the terrified crowds. The building shook so rough that the spectators started to think an earthquake suddenly hit the region. The epicenter of the punch radiated a shockwave sideways, splitting the rest of the arena in two, Yasuo barely managing to dive out of the way. The blast weakened the upper stand's support, Ahri holding on for life and balance, ready to jump down or back should the stand give way.

The entire spectacle was compounded by a deafening blast and giant dust cloud now enveloping the arena. From the back of the shadows, Kayn and Onoki hid, still trying to discern, let alone process what in the seven hells just happened.

The dust began settling once again, a lone beast-man standing with his arm outstretched. His fur coat and hair settled, the last of his power retreating to his body. His teeth still gritted, he looked forward, trying to see the damage. There was no sign of the Demacian and he didn't feel anything on his right fist.

That was it. The show was over. The best fight of his life was over…

He was a tad disappointed. Nothing in his life has ever come to close to bringing him this far to the edge. Still, a win was a win. The dust on the other end calmed as well…

…Revealing a massive red sphere.

Before Sett could process it, he felt a giant metal fist to his face, rocketing him towards the other end of the arena, tumbling violently across the dirt, ramming through the gate and slamming right into the weakened support column of the upper stands. Feeling the stand rumble and give away, Ahri jumped over the railing, landing gracefully on the ground and dashing away using her powers as the stone stand collapsed right on top of the beast-man, burying him and partially sealing the exit away, the torn wolverine flag floating down on top of the debris.

"SETT!" She almost collided with the stone as she dashed back in, trying desperately to claw through the rubble. Opposite the wreckage, Garen stood tall, exhausted but regaining his strength and stamina with a few controlled breaths. He seemed larger than before, rivaling Sett in height and glowing slightly. He looked to his left hand, the source of his sudden surge of power and toughness; the gauntlet known as Sterak's Gage glowed bright red before subsiding slowly, giving him enhanced strength and size. He felt strangely comfortable with it, like it was a natural part of him before composing himself and looking to the rubble of the stand, the lone fox vastaya trying in vain to dig out the half-beast.

"I'd stand back if I were you." He simply warned her.

Before she could respond, the rubble began shaking, slowly lifting itself from the ground before flying apart completely form a force below it, revealing itself as the Beast-Man Bastard. Sett pushed of the last of the rocks from him, brushing himself clean, cracking his neck and pulling his dislocated shoulder back in place. Throughout it all, Ahri saw his face, bleeding from his forehead and now focused on his challenger; the beast-man was smiling, a hungry grin that could rarely be satisfied. She had one like that before, in her old days. The fear and worry gripped her again, locking her in place once more, her knees to the dirt and a hand above her heart from the descending mind of the hybrid…

"You ok, foxy?"

He was still there, thank the gods. The fear dissolved, completely absorbed by the worry.

"Am I ok?! Sett, you two just demolished half the place! Me being ok is the furthest thing from my mind right now!" She raised her voice.

"Good. Get clear. This fight's not over yet." He strode forward from the debris, facing Garen once more. Ahri eyed them both; despite their injuries, their strength and stamina seemed infinite. Both were ready for more. From beneath the worry, the fear resurfaced in the face of these two… juggernauts, unstoppable titans with powers to rival the stars themselves…

Deep inside, she hoped to live through the night to tell the tale of the most fearsome and terrifying fight in Kashuri… and possibly all of modern Ionia. To that end, she dashed away one more time, taking her place behind one of the less destroyed and stronger pieces of rock. The crowds were few and far between now, Yasuo barely able to keep up but somehow still present while the rest were rushing for the doors.

"Your customers are leaving." Garen pointed it out to Sett, who just shrugged.

"Let 'em leave. Once word gets out about this fight, even more will come." He cracked his knuckles once more, eager to continue where they left off. The entire building was in shambles, its roof cracked and the floor completely wiped from existence, the dirt standing in its place.

"You seem confident of that, Sett. How do you know they won't slander or fear your overwhelming and dangerous ways of fighting?" He asked a logical question.

"Because no matter how many of them leave… they always come back." Sett said spoke assertively as he strode until he was once again within three meters of Garen.

"But like I said before, talk is cheap." He raised his arms, eyeing his foe… his fated foe once more.

"In your case, you're right." Garen agreed with him, taking his stance.

"Ready, Beast-Man?"

"Let's finish it, Demacian!"

As they both lunged at each other, however, a swift shadow darted toward them, the silhouette of a man behind it dragging a scythe.

"ON YOUR LEFT!" Ahri yelled out, making the two titans stop and turn.

The shadow swung the scythe at both their heads, Garen and Sett blocking the blow easily. As the shadow coalesced, it revealed a young man behind it, the scythe's eyeball hungrily eyeing the two juggernauts.

"HEY! No party crashers! NOT on the best night of my life!" Sett pointed at him angrily, wanting him dead on the spot. The man simply smiled.

"Oh, I believe it's way past your curfew. Onoki, now!" At his signal, an armored woman landed in the ring from the stands, drawing her dual katanas fully enchanted and empowered with fire magic. Drawing the swords, she unleashed a massive wave of fire at the men, Kayn hastily ducking beneath it while Garen and Sett brought their arms up in order to block it. Before it reached them, however, a wide wall of wind erupted before them, blocking the incoming wave completely. Its creator walked over beside Garen, his long katana fully drawn.

"It's not yet time for my pal here to die." Yasuo eyed the two intruders before turning to Garen.

"The one who launched the fire… That's her. The captain of Kashuri's security forces." He pointed to the approaching behemoth of a woman, Onoki standing beside Kayn, as tall as Garen and eyeing the Demacian.

"You… You're the bastard that's been causing me and my city all this trouble." Her katanas flared up once again, impatient to taste the flesh of the hybrid.

"Yeah, that's me, bitch. How'd you find me, anyway?" Sett asked. Onoki just waved him off.

"Not you, freak! Him… on and his little samurai whore there, too." She said, aiming one of her katanas at them.

"Well, that's rude… If anything, he should be my courtesan with the way I drag him around." Yasuo took a sip from his bottle, hoping the joke would fly over Garen's head.

"That's righ- Wait! What's that supposed to mean?!" It didn't, forcing Yasuo to sip a bit longer.

"Hang on… she followed you here…" Sett pieced two and two together, his mind clicking them in place.

"It was you two! She followed you here and now my whole godsdamned business is ruined in this city thanks to you two!" Sett growled out, angry that his entire attempt at expanding went up in flames, almost literally.

"Not the best time for this, boss man…" Yasuo didn't need one more foe.

"Oh, I think it's a perfect time! I beat all of you to death and hopefully salvage what's left of my fortunes before getting the hell out of this rathole of a city!" Sett flared up, eager to start busting heads and approaching the two men menacingly.

"We're not your enemies right now, Sett." Garen tried reasoning, but before Sett could respond, Kayn dashed forward, taking advantage of their distracted minds. Before he could even swing Rhaast at their necks, an orb of fire blocked his strike, singing him as it passed through his arm. Ahri took her place at Sett's side, ready to defend her new friend.

"_Now_ do you need my help, big guy?" She asked.

"It's appreciated, not gonna lie." Sett diverted his attention to Onoki and Kayn, who took their fighting stances. The fox, beast-man, knight and wind warrior took theirs as well, ready to face off.

All of them were surprised as an explosion was heard in the near distance, shaking the ground slightly.

"Kayn… that came from…" Onoki spoke in alarm.

"The foundry. Something must have gone wrong!" Kayn turned to the exit. At their words and from the explosion, Garen and Yasuo shared an alarmed glance.

"The girls!" Their combined yell alerted the other four but it was too late. Garen just started running, bull-rushing the distracted Onoki and Kayn, knocking the latter aside. Yasuo just followed Garen, swiftly moving through Onoki's attempted strike.

"Hey! Come on, Onoki. We can't let-"

"GET BACK HERE, YOU ASSHOLES! YOU OWE ME SOME SERIOUS MONEY!" Before Kayn could finish, Sett trampled him out of the way chasing after the knight and wind warrior, Kayn hitting the dirt rather unceremoniously.

"And you owe me a vacation, freak!" Onoki stepped over his back, driving him further into the ground. Free to recover at last, poor Shieda Kayn got on one knee… before his face was driven into the dirt once more by a graceful fox vastaya.

"Sorry." She sounded apologetic, at least, as she ran after Sett and the others. Kayn just groaned his frustrations out.

"**Wow… Even I'm surprised at how much of not your day this is turning out to be.**"

"Shut up, Rhaast!" He bellowed out as he chased after them, back pains and an incoming headache to compound on top of his calamities.

* * *

The lively streets of the Fireworks District did little to help the massive column of cannons get a move on. The weapons were at least three meters long and weighted half a ton each, making transporting them a trial. Nobody minded the creations as they were draped with covering cloth and they were used to things being transported across their streets at all times. This made it easier for three women to spy on them, concocting their own plans for the weapons.

"Irelia, are you sure you're okay? You decreased in size, but I don't know if there are any after-effects of that thing." Nami asked, looking at the gauntlet.

"I feel fine, don't worry. Let's just continue on." She focused on the task at hand, eyeing the men's positions.

"Well, at least the people aren't suspicious." Irelia noticed, her crest fluttering behind her.

"Yeah, but not for long. We have to strike now or they're gonna reach the gates." Akali prepared her remaining tools of death, checking her kama twice before turning to observe the column. They were stopped, their progress halted by the current trading going on through the street; it was a crossroad, meaning lots of people and lots of shops, making moving the cannons difficult.

"What about the bystanders? We can't put them in danger." Nami chimed in, worried about what Akali was planning.

"Don't worry, Fishy. They'll help us." Those words surprised Irelia and Nami.

"What? How?" Irelia asked, not keen on hearing the assassin's plan.

"Well, not them precisely, but those fireworks and firecrackers will. Whaddaya say, girls? Ready to boost Kashuri's firework sales by giving the people a live demonstration?" Akali asked. Irelia and Nami just looked at each other with skeptical eyes and eyebrows.

"We're not gonna love this, are we?"

* * *

"I am not loving this, Garen!" Yasuo yelled as the men ran through the Fireworks District streets, the explosions and cheers disorienting them a bit.

"Just keep going, Yasuo! We need to get to the girls!" Garen lead as they came up on a large cul-de-sac, the circle arrayed with carts of fireworks and other merriment explosives. The whole thing was near a market which was beside a river the separated the districts.

"Which way, Yasuo?" Garen was a bit lost from here, having had no time to scout the city.

"Just follow the smoke, I guess." Yasuo pointed toward a large rising billow of smoke coming from the Foundry District's largest manufacturing complex. Garen observed his surroundings, spotting a bridge crossing the river.

"There. Once we cross, we make our way to the-"

"HEY! MORONS!" He had no time to explain as Sett came charging in the cul-de-sac like a maddened bull, spotting the two and immediately beelining for them.

"He seems… angry." Garen took over as captain of the S.S. Obvious.

"Ya think?!" Yasuo barely dodged the bulrush by the hybrid, diving out of the way and drawing his sword.

"Can this night get any more troublesome?"

"There you idiots are!" He really shouldn't have opened his mouth, fate's greatest tempter. Onoki ran into the cul-de-sac as well, swords aflame and eager to fight. Garen barely had time to draw his as she charged him, fire clashing with steel as she pushed against him.

"There you all are- Whoa!" Ahri came next, dodging a fire slash from Onoki as she turned her attention to the fox.

"Anyone else?!" Yasuo bellowed as he barely held off the hybrid, exasperated at tonight's events.

"I'll kill all of you!" Of course. Last but not least, Kayn came barging in, all pretenses of subtlety shoved aside in favor of stress relief. He began swinging at Sett and Garen, who dodged the blows and countered with their own, Kayn holding them off expertly until he received a punch to the stomach by Sett, backing him into a cart. The beast-man threw himself at Kayn, who moved out of the way, stumbling into another cart.

"Not fast, are you, freak?"

"Neither are you."

Garen's fist slammed into Kayn as he was launched into another cart, crashing into the empty front part.

"Onoki, a little help would be VERY MUCH appreciated." Kayn called out, struggling to get to his feet.

"Incoming!" Onoki put her fight with the fox on hold as she launched a fire slash at the three, all of them ducking beneath the wave.

"Hey! Mind where you-" Kayn started but didn't finish the sentence, hearing a sizzling sound behind him, the realization of what was happening slowly creeping up on his face, transforming it into a look of pure horror.

"ONOKI! THESE ARE FIREWORKS AND ROCKETS!" The shock found its way to his mouth.

"So?"

"WHAT SETS OFF FIREWORKS AND ROCKETS?!" At his horrified question, the others turned to the carts… to see all the fireworks and rocket fuses ignited and sizzling away, the bystanders behind and around them backing away in panic. Sett, Garen and Kayn in particular had the most alarmed expressions, given that they were in the way of the carts filled to the brim with them.

"… Oh, right." It was the last thing Onoki said as the fireworks ignited.

The carts rocketed forward one by one, Garen being practically scooped up by one as it plummeted down the street, carrying the screaming Demacian as he hung on for dear life.

"GET BACK HERE, GAREN!" Sett willingly jumped on a rocketing cart as well, trying to steer it toward the Demacian's cart as they sped off into the distance.

"Well, there go our targeeeeeeee-!" Kayn thought he was out of the way, but Rhaast got caught on one cart's coupling, dragging the luckless Shadow Reaper along.

"Rhaast! Damn it, let go off the coupling!"

"**I'M A SCYTHE, IDIOT. I CAN'T **_**DO**_** ANYTHING BESIDES YELL AT YOU!**" The Darkin was enjoying the situation even less. Kayn struggled to detach the scythe, but the cart was zooming with greater speed than he could fight against. Up the creek and screaming, Kayn and Rhaast were dragged through Kashuri's streets, a strange but hilarious spectacle for the bystanders and passersby. Back at the cul-de-sac, Ahri, Onoki and Yasuo just stood staring at the whizzing carts and the three hapless idiots on them.

"So… should we help them?" Ahri broke the awkward silence.

"Two monsters and an edgy shadow warrior. Nah, I'm fine." Onoki admitted, having developed a trauma thanks to the horrific fight she witnessed back at the arena, not eager to trail the devastation that would no doubt follow them.

"Isn't the scythe ninja your comrade?" Ahri asked, suddenly having no qualms casually chatting with the woman trying to murder them.

"Edgelord? He is, but I don't like him. Too oversensitive and full of himself. Also, he's an asskisser." Onoki had even less trouble badmouthing her partner.

"Huh… Ok, then. What now?" Yasuo took out his bottle, grateful for a second of free peaceful drinking.

"I dunno… I guess I'll go back to trying to kill you two." Onoki took her stance, eyeing Yasuo, who put his bottle away and pointed his sword at her.

"Fair enough. Fox, mind trying to make sure Garen and your pall the Boss not cause too much destruction? Especially at the Hianden Teahouse. I love the tea there." He requested of Ahri, who just looked at him sideways.

"Don't you need my help against her?" Before she got her answer, a massive fire slash erupted at her, making her duck for dear life. Luckily, Onoki controlled herself due to the bystanders; she may have wanted to fight them, but harming innocents was a no go for her, especially in her city.

"OnsecondthoughtyouguyslookbusyI'lljustbegoingnow." Ahri's singed tail tips made her rapid-fire her response as she dropped on all fours and ran in the direction of the speeding carts, leaving the wind warrior and the fire lady to duke it out.

"Now then…" Yasuo pushed Onoki off, pointing her sword at her once more.

"… Shall we?"

"With pleasure." Onoki just ignited her katanas again and charged the wind warrior.

* * *

Irelia and Akali slowly moved into position around the cannon column, its movement now completely halted as the Order escorts were trying to secure a pass toward Kashuri's outer steel gates straight ahead of them but blocked by the people shopping and enjoying themselves with various activities on the street. The left side of the column was flanked by Kashuri's river, which flowed up to the walls and out through a massive grate. On the right side of the column, the fireworks shops and stalls were filled to the brim, the parents of the young children buying them various sizzle sticks and small rockets. No one suspected anything, making it for the perfect surprise element as Irelia and Akali got behind a stall, still masked by the crowds and their ignorance.

"Before we die, I just want you to know that this is _entirely_ your fault." Irelia grumbled, not being entirely on board with Akali's 'inspired' plan.

"Noted. Now get ready." The assassin smirked as she attached a fire leaflet to one of her kunai. She took a careful and measured look at the stalls; many of the fireworks were positioned upright as to not harm anyone should they go off on accident. The Order warriors and the column were in perfect position, running parallel with the stalls. Readying her kunai, she looked at her friend one more time, the grin on her face widening.

"Ready, Knivey?" This was it.

"After you… literally." Irelia's crest split, ready for combat.

Akali ignited the fire leaflet, aiming the kunai carefully. With a swing of her arm, she threw the knife in a perfect straight line, igniting the fuses on all the fireworks. The stall owners noticed, warning and screaming at everyone to stand back, making for the first distraction of the Order. A second later, the fireworks shot off into the night sky, making a thousand more stars and practically turning night into day. The second distraction was made, the Order distracted by the lights and the yells. Within the instant, Irelia emerged from her hiding spot, throwing her blades out at the guards, making full use of Akali's distraction and taking all of them by surprise, cutting a few down in the initial assault. Before they even realized they were under attack, Akali dashed out, slicing three of them down with her kama and hitting five others with five perfectly thrown kunai. The Order finally realized what was happening, entering their combat stances and forming defensive formations around the cannons, guarding them with their very lives. Though they were taken by surprise, they still managed to put their defense fast enough to block off the two ladies that tore through them a second ago. Akali and Irelia backed off, taking exactly three steps back, the Order warriors not breaking their formation… just the way Akali predicted.

"Ready, Fishy?"

At her call, Nami, having snuck down to the canal, slammed her staff in the river, taking full command of it for the time being.

"Ready!" She slowly commanded the waters to rise, leaking out of the canal before lifting up in the air. The look of fear in the Order warriors' eyes was the final signal of the plan.

"Hey, chums!" Nami raised her staff before forcibly swinging it at the poor schmucks.

"COOL OFF!" At her call, the waters collapsed down on the column, washing away the guards and splashing the bystanders, putting out any stray fires. The force of the wave knocked the cannons back, flipping the drapes off on some of them and revealing them to the public. The people panicked upon seeing them, however, and immediately cleared the way for the column.

"Well… Step One complete. Now for the hard part." Akali readied herself at the approaching Kashuri security forces in league with the Order. Nami floated out of the canal, joining her friends and awaiting the encroaching guards, now joined by the remaining Order warriors, all of their weapons drawn and ready.

"… I'm still ending up as sushi, aren't I?" Nami gave up on getting through the night unscathed.

"Well, on the bright side, you are one delicious-looking dish." Akali winked at her, Nami making a scrunched face of disbelief at the assassin's comment.

"… I hate you, Akali." Those were her last words before they were swarmed from all sides, Irelia's blades being flung out and exploding in a blade-tip formation, Akali's smoke bombs blinding the flankers while Nami enchanted their weapons and her own, flinging out bubbles and snaring their attackers.

No matter what, both sides would not relent. There was too much at stake for all of them not to win here and now.

* * *

A few onlookers remained back at the cul-de-sac, observing Onoki and Yasuo's fierce duel. Sword clashes and unrelenting swipes permeated through the circle as the sword masters fought, trying to find a weakness in each other's defense.

"Come on, old man. I thought you were some sort of legend." Onoki taunte him as she swiped her blades downwards, pushing Yasuo down on one knee. He simply stepped to the right and let her put her blades to the ground along with his, tripping her and knocking her down in order to regain some distance. As she struggled to get up, he analyzed what he learned; she was stronger than him and just as fast, meaning a head-on fight was a death wish. Her fire magic was weak against his wind one, though. Forming a small plan, he made a half turn around the cul-de-sac until the river was against his back.

"Damn, you little…!" Onoki sprung on her feet, her pigtails completely undone as her long hair dropped to her lower spine.

"It's not good for a young lady's complexion to get angry. Trust me, this 'old man' would know." Yasuo mocked her, daring her with a hand to bring it. Onoki roared, igniting her blades and charging him head on. They clashed, the force driving Yasuo back as he went on the defensive, dodging and countering every blow he could, Onoki continuing her assault until they were right at the river banks. Yasuo made a thrust forward only for Onoki to move to the right and swipe furiously at him, landing a viscous slash across his chest. It wasn't deep, but it still drew blood and knocked him into the river.

"Getting slower, old man." She jumped in fearlessly, her armor not doing anything to weigh her down even though she was drenched all the way up to her waist.

"Then come get me." He recovered, doing his best to ignore the pain. Onoki lunged forward, igniting her blades… which evaporated as soon as she tried.

"What the-!"

"The thing about fire is…" Yasuo began, dodging to the right thrusting forward, hitting Onoki right in her shoulder and building up his wind power.

"It doesn't really do that much against other elements." He thrust again, hitting her in the thigh and destabilizing her balance. Onoki swung one more time at him, but the energy inside his sword fully accrued, readying his powers. Dashing through and behind her in an instant, he swung his sword, unleashing a large tornado in her direction, lifting her up in the air. As she flipped midair, he dashed with lightning speed up to her, slicing her twice, cracking her metal armor and striking her overhead in the midsection, breaking her armor in that section as they plummeted to the water, Onoki splashing violently while Yasuo landed with ease. As she tried to recover, he moved in for one last thrust toward her throat, but it never found its target. Onoki recovered, catching her falling swords perfectly and blocking the strike, pushing Yasuo off once more as she balanced herself upright.

"I'm not that easy to kill, bastard." She growled out, her hair and armor fully soaked from the water. Yasuo just stood there, swiping his sword before pointing toward her.

"That was just a warning, kid. Next one ain't gonna be that-" He barely finished before the waters suddenly subsided, drawn off into the distance. He turned around to notice a rising wave above a nearby street, the watery body floating for a second before crashing down, eliciting distant screams.

'It's Nami. Has to be.' He thought to himself. A growl got his attention, coming from the drenched Onoki eyeing him angrily. He readied his sword with a smug, knowing that she was weakened… in the water… which was now subsiding. His smugness turned to utter fear as her growl got louder.

"On second thought… Later!" He hightailed it out of there, boosted slightly by his only true ally, the wind.

"COME BACK HERE, ASSHOLE!" Onoki trailed after him, the fish stuck in her armor wiggling for life as she dripped both water and small river fauna while waddling after the wind warrior.

* * *

"HOW DO YOU STOP THIS THIIIIIIIIIIING?!" Garen zoomed across the streets of Kashuri, desperately trying to get a hold of the cart. Regaining his footing at last, he tried putting his weight on each side, slightly steering the cart as he barely rounded a turn, the walls of the buildings being singed from the firing rockets while the pedestrians dived out of the way.

"Well, at least the worst passed." He breathed out.

"**GAREN!**" It did not, in fact, pass. Sett finally caught up to him, steering his own cart next to his.

"… Are you for real, you half-beast idiot?! We're plummeting into what is likely oblivion, people are screaming on the sides, our carts are nearly on fire and you want to FIGHT?!" Garen tried reaching out to the last bits of reason the half-beast had.

"YES!" He had none, it seemed. Garen just sighed as Sett stood upright, trying to jump over to his cart. He drew his sword and stood upright as Sett swung at him, blocking his strike. They swashbuckled relentlessly, the people they passed by astounded and baffled by the strange event unfolding and wondering what just passed them by.

They came up to a crossroad, prompting both of them to assume control over their carts for a brief moment. Right on cue, a third cart came zooming down from the other street, the Shadow Reaper and his scythe still holding on screaming. As the carts bumped into each other while turning, Kayn was launched in the air forward, dislodging Rhaastand landing on top of his cart. The three men spotted each other, a brief moment of silence and realization passing between them.

A massive three-way fight broke out, Kayn swiping at both of them trying to knock them off balance while holding his own, Garen on the defense alternating between blocking Kayn's scythe and dodging Sett's fists, the hybrid swinging wildly at both of them while expertly holding his wobbly ground. The carts rushed past the entire district, the three fighters atop alternating between steering them, fighting back and balancing themselves, Garen at one point knocking Kayn into Sett, who jumped over to Garen's cart making him dodge over to Kayn's empty cart. The scene was unlike any Kashuri's citizens and travellers had ever seen, many trying to follow the fight while others dove out of the way.

"This is foolish!"

"This is necessary!"

"This is AWESOME!"

The three each voiced their feeling about the current situation, screaming them out as loud as their lungs would let them.

"… So this is a really bad time, then?"

All of them turned to see Ahri running on all fours beside them, keeping up with the thundering carts all the while dodging people, signs and lampposts.

"The hell you doing here, foxy?!" Sett asked while blocking a swing from Kayn.

"Trying to help you?! HELLO?!" Ahri was still exasperated at his attitude.

"Oh right! Friends! Well, feel free to jump in anywhere!" Sett called out, catching a punch from Garen while holding his sword back. Ahri got in front of the carts, running at full speed as the three behind her trailed, the boys still fighting on top of them. She wrapped her tails carefully around Sett's cart, trying to pull him away from the violence.

"Oh hell no, Foxy! I want this fight!" He simply tackled Garen right as Kayn jumped on his cart, missing his strike on the beast-man. He looked at Ahri, his nearest victim, with menace.

"Heheh… heh… Hi there. Still sorry about earlier. Please don't stab me, yes?" Ahri sheepishly waved at the Shadow Reaper, who was too incensed to listen to any sort of apology. He swung Rhaast at her tails, Ahri expertly detaching them right as they rounded a corner, Garen and Sett's carts diverting the other way with the two juggernauts still duking it out on top.

"Oh, come on, Sett!" She yelled out in frustration after him, all the while dodging Kayn's cart, which sped off along with the miserable angry ninja. Seeing no point in following the hybrid, she simply sped off after Kayn's cart, hoping to take care of him at least to get the ninja off of Sett's back and help any bystanders along the way.

All in all, the night was turning wild for everyone involved.

* * *

"Just keep trying!" Irelia called out, speeding through the guards as she knocked them out, cut them down or simply shoved them aside, fighting ferociously to keep the bulk of them of Akali and Nami, who were trying to dislodge one of the cannons of its wheeled support.

"It's too heavy, Akali! We can't lift it!" Nami struggled to keep the water current beneath the cannon lifting.

"I got this! Help her! GO!" Akali barked out as Irelia was starting to get overwhelmed. Nami immediately floated away to Irelia, bombarding her assailants with torrents of water while healing Irelia's cuts with the same. Akali prepped her last bomb; they would have to find another way to take out the other cannons. A feeling swam up her spine like a cold fish, turning to eye her surroundings. The shuriken aimed her head was barely avoided by her, the disc bouncing off the cannon as it landed before her feet. She didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Hello, Zed." She swiveled around mercilessly, blocking his arm blade strike and going for her own on his exposed face with her kunai. The Master of Shadows easily blocked it, kneeing her in the abdomen before slashing at her cheek, putting a small cut on her face.

"Do you have… ANY idea… what you've just cost me?" His red eyes flared up in pure rage, his shadow magic simmering from his body.

"Let's see; your weapons, your factory, the trust of your allies and a bit of your sanity. Not a bad trade, am I right?" She was being her feisty self, purposefully agitating the ninja. Without warning, he dove straight at her, putting all his anger and strength behind his strikes, the rogue assassin barely blocking them, forced to throw a smoke bomb to give herself a much-needed time window to gather her strength. Zed, however, wasn't intent on letting that happen; he cast his shadow clone on one side of her smoke shroud and slashed fiercely in a circle around him, the shadow clone mimicking his motions. Once he found no target, he focused his senses, closing his eyes as to hear and feel the assassin through her shroud. One movement was all he needed, a fact Akali knew from experience as she stood completely still. She had to time this right; once her shroud expanded to its edges, she threw a kunai at his shadow clone, at the same time charging Zed directly from behind as he didn't spot her being right behind him. Four more kunai at his back were thrown as her kama swiped at his hamstring. Zed was ready for all of them, however; the Master of Shadows turned and threw another razor shuriken at the assassin, knocking her kunai aside. Using the cover, Akali went for his knee, knowing he either had to take the hit or swap with his shadow clone, with the first kunai about to hit. What she didn't predict, however, was the second shuriken heading straight for her, the first kunai knocked aside by it. Having no choice but to dodge, she leapt to the side, only to find herself face first in Zed's kick. Her disorientation gave him enough time to press the assault, swiping at her furiously, giving her a number of cuts to show for it until finally he kicked her in the abdomen with such force that she flew back, slamming into the giant cannon. She barely opened her eyes, unable to move from the pain and seeing the Master of Shadows striding towards her with murderous intent.

"…Shen isn't here to save you anymore, little girl." He stood over her, grabbing her by the neck and lifting her with one hand, drawing his blade in the other.

"Give my regards to him from the Spirit World when you see him." He drew his blade aiming it at her heart, the blade eager to drink her blood and his rage to finally be silenced.

All that ended with a sharp pain on the back of his head, his vision slowly dimming until he collapsed unconscious, Akali dropping down with him.

"…I've wanted to do that to that jackass ever since I saw him." Nami helped the assassin up and healed her wounds, having marvelously socked the Master of Shadows on his head with her staff. Irelia joined them soon after, the three once again standing surrounded from all sides.

"Well, I assume you have a Plan B?" Nami asked the assassin.

"Yeah; fight or die." She drew her kama and her last kunai, taking her combat stance.

"…That's not a plan at all, but at this point, I'm down for anything." Nami gathered her remaining magic.

"Don't worry, girls. We'll find a way… out…" Irelia split her crest but stopped her encouragement all of a sudden.

"What? What is it?"

"You hear that?" At her question, a scream sounded off from the distance, coming closer and closer along with a fiery sizzling noise. Before anyone could react, Kayn's cart came shooting up from down the street, carrying the yelling scythe wielder before he crashed unceremoniously face-first into the ground, the cart's fireworks and rockets having run out of powder at the least desired moment.

"…Kayn?" Akali just asked, having recognized the youth.

"Who?" Irelia asked, baffled as to who he was.

"You know him?" Nami was also a bit curious.

Before Akali could answer, another yelp came down from the street following Kayn's exotic entrance. A nine-tailed fox vastaya trailed him, sprinting with two buckets of water in each hand.

"Pardon me. Excuse me. Sorry, coming through." She hastily spoke, the guards, the Order warriors and the three girls too perplexed by her appearance. She threw the water in the buckets over the fuming cart, putting them down as she went over to the dazed Kayn, who still struggled to recover.

"Who the heck is she?" Akali asked, the girls and a few of the guards just shrugging.

Ahri ignored everyone as she cupped Kayn's face in her hands.

"Just… relax. You're safe now, Shieda Kayn." She used her charm powers on his dazed mind, creating a goofy wide smile on the intoxicated Shadow Reaper, making her recoil in surprise.

"Okay… maybe I overdid it… Oh! Uhm… hi. I am Ahri and uhm… I honestly have no clue what I'm doing here." She introduced herself awkwardly.

"I'm Akali. And I got no idea, either." Akali, surrounded by their equally wondering enemies, introduced herself.

"My name is Irelia Xan. Honored to meet you… yeah, I'm just in the dark as everyone." Irelia followed suit for some reason.

"Nami's the name and the game's the same." The Marai rhymed on the spot, turning everyone's attention to her.

"…I swear I didn't mean to rhyme that out." Their enemies recovered from the daze, pointing their weapons at them. The three readied themselves while Ahri just uneasily stared at the unfolding event.

"So, uh… yeah. I'm not with them and I think I'll be goi- Oknevermindyou'repointingweaponsatmenowtoo." She tried to excuse herself but only succeeded in making a target out of herself, Kayn softly grabbing her hand and making googly-eyes at her to compound the entire thing, Ahri shoving him away by his face. Definitely overdid it on the charm.

"What's going on here?" Everyone turned to the appeared Yasuo, lost and wet from wandering through the river, now surprised at the situation.

"Ok, a really bad time, I assume…" He just walked steadily over to the girls who eyed him curiously astounded by his random appearance.

"Yasuo? Where'd you come from? How'd you get that cut… *sniff**sniff* and why are you reeking of fish?" Nami asked, healing his cut as much as she could. Irelia and Akali's brains were having a hard time processing the situation now.

"I believe _she_ can answer that." He pointed to the approaching armored woman, who waddled over in her heavy armor with dozens of fish wiggling from the joints.

"There you all are, you conniving, dirt-eating, crapsacks of-" Onoki yelled out, but tripped over a rocket dropped from Kayn's cart, making her land face-first in the pavement. She recovered quickly, still trying to bark out orders to her men and the Order warriors, who stared at her like she just crawled out of a sewer.

"Mfffflgbbbtlllllllrrrrlblrgl-" She tried speaking, but the koi stuck in her mouth prevented her from doing so, forcing her to spit the poor thing out.

"You assholes are all gonna pay… especially YOU. You owe me a new suit!" She pointed to Yasuo.

Everyone just stared at each other with the exception of Kayn who was still infatuated with Ahri, the fox barely keeping him off her.

"Can this night get _any_ **more BIZARRE**?!" Irelia yelled out, startling everyone.

"Give it a minute." Yasuo decided to tempt fate once… and it answered with a vengeance.

A large accelerating explosion was heard from up the street along with two interweaved screams of rage, distress and disbelief. The noise approached at alarming speeds, making the guards and the Order warriors hastily move out of the way in their fear. Yasuo, Onoki, Irelia, Nami, Akali and Ahri simply stared at incoming show of light, explosions on all sides and two large men yelling. Sure enough, the spectacle revealed itself in a grandiose display of fireworks detonations, dazzles bright enough to turn night into day, sparks flying from all sides everywhere… and two blaring men hanging onto each other for dear life.

"…Aaaaand there it is." Yasuo gave up for the night.

Garen and Sett came crashing into the street in a comet of fire, blazing past everyone until the cart slammed into one of the cannons, launching them both, arms and legs flailing as they sailed through the air directly into an opposite building's windows. Several crashes and breaking noises were heard not long after from the inside, wood splintering along with glass shattering, a few surprised screams until finally the front entrance to the building burst into a hundred pieces, Garen and Sett tumbling across the entire canal, finishing with a glorious encore of their faces sliding across the pavement and their lower halves up in the air, finally stopping in front of the cannons and at the feet of the now-gathered party with their legs plopping down. Everyone just stared at the insanity, Ahri still holding the charmed Kayn back, finally snapping him out of it as she shoved him forcefully on the ground, Zed coming to while rubbing his head, Akali and Irelia's brains deciding to take a much need vacation while shutting down their hosts' thought processes, Nami frantically looking around, not sure who to help or fight, Onoki struggling to get the fish out of her armor and Yasuo just grabbing the nearest abandoned bottle of what he hoped was the strongest alcohol in this city. It all came magnificently together with three simple words.

"**I… HATE… Kashuri.**"

Garen groaned out, slowly pushing himself up and taking in his surroundings, spotting his friends, particularly a dazed Blade Dancer, whose brain decided to its vacation prematurely but not unwantedly. The sweet reunion was cut short with a livid awakening half-beast, growling whilst pulling himself up, searching for his target until he found him.

"My coat… it's ruined! The thing costs more that this _whole goddamn city_!" He bellowed, putting Garen on the defense.

"You ain't the only one hating it, crapstain!" Sett lunged at him, snapping everyone out of their stumped state as they rushed to help their friend who got pinned to one of the cannons.

"Confound it all, Sett! Will you yield already?! What happened wasn't… my…" Garen held him off until he noticed a slowly-flaring light in the beast-man's eyes. Sett slowly let go of Garen, loosening his grip slightly as he looked alarmed, beginning to startle Garen as well. Just then, a thrumming noise began ringing out behind them along with a light that was getting brighter by the second.

"Garen, behind you." Irelia called out, noticing the source of the commotion; Garen's palm was on the cannon… which was slowly powering up, the quinlon crystal slowly charging with magic and growing stronger by the milisecond.

"It's going to fire…" Zed came to entirely, noticing the event, his tone filled with fear.

"What?" It was all Onoki could utter.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Zed screamed as he ported to Kayn, grabbing the dazed apprentice and throwing him to Onoki, who shielded them both behind the nearest overturned stall.

"Of course it's not over…" Yasuo just breathed out, running for the nearest overturned cart.

"MOVE, PEOPLE!" Akali grabbed Nami and tan straight for the stalls, the crowds of warriors dispersing hastily and panicky as the cannon showed no signs of stopping, rays of light now slowly shining from the metal.

"What did I…" Garen was stumped, unable to move.

"Come on, we gotta go!" Irelia yanked him, pulling him across the canal through the destroyed entrance. Sett and Ahri ran for the building as well, taking cover behind the stone walls and praying it was enough to hold.

The cannon overencumbered itself, its quinlon crystal vibrating to its zenith, slowly cracking from the sheer overload of magic, trembling despite its weight.

A moment of brief silence, the brightest flash… and the loudest noise of the night sounded.

The cannon fired, breaking in half from the overwhelming force, the front half blasted apart while the back half was flung into the other two cannons behind it. The line of light and magic pierced through the remaining seven, destroying them and their wheeled attachments, but it did not stop there. With the column aimed at the gates of Kashuri, it blasted through them, flinging the giant metal doors outward to the prairie around the city, the bent and charred steel rectangles landing with a resounding clang in the dirt. The light beam subsided in the distance as the magic dried up from the metal corpse of the cannon.

Once everything died down, the other emerged from their hiding spots and covers, everyone eyeing the destruction. It was a strange miracle that no one got hurt or killed, but the damage was colossal, the street a complete mess and the cannons outright demolished, some beyond repair. The group reunited at the remains of the fired cannon, Garen eyeing the devastation.

"You!" Zed's voice echoed from the back as he jumped over his cover.

"Why have you DONE?! Do you have any… Any idea… Grr… Urghhh…" Zed couldn't form words anymore, drawing his arm blades in anger.

"Zed…" Onoki tried warning him, carrying Kayn on one shoulder, the apprentice struggling to stay upright while holding his scythe.

"You'll all die! I'll see to it that-"

"ZED!" Onoki snapped him to, Zed's vision clearing to see who was in front of him.

A vastayan fox with a large flaming orb in her hand, a tall half-beast cracking his knuckles, an armored Demacian with his sword drawn, the Liberator of Ionia with all her blades pointed at him, a wily assassin with her kama and kunai ready to slice, a wind warrior surrounded and shielded by the force he commanded and a Marai with her water powers in full swing.

The small blaze behind them enhanced their silhouettes, the glow in their eyes displaying their unbreakable resolve to fight any who dared challenge them. Any who would not be intimidated by the sight were fools… and Zed was not one of those types.

"This isn't over." Zed gave out one final warning as he dashed away with Onoki and Kayn following behind, disappearing into the shadows as the guards and Order warriors dispersed, either on damage control or to return to lick their wounds.

The party just breathed out, glad this crazy night was finally dying down.

…At least, until Sett regained his hunting sense, eyeing Garen dangerously.

"You…" He loomed at Garen, who turned to him.

"You and I have unfinished business, Garen." He barred his way as a challenge.

"It has been a long day and I'd like to put our grievances to rest… but I still have one last punch in me." Garen balled his fist.

"Whoa, hey. Can we not?" Ahri tried holding Sett back, but he just ignored her and stopped three feet in front of his foe.

His fated foe. He grinned uncontrollably, impatient to throw one last decisive punch and settle it once and for all… at least for the night.

His alerted comrades behind him, however, were not going to let that happen, readying their weapons and turning to the beast-man. At least Ahri stood beside him, ready to back him up. The tension rose once again, however little of it was left.

"Settrigh?"

It all froze in place, with Sett in particular stopping completely dead. He turned to the left, dreading the upcoming sight of the person he _least_ wanted to be present at the most inopportune of times.

Sure as the stars were shining, his mother stood there, a worried and disbelieving look on her face. And so, this is how he died.

"What are you doing here? Who are these people? Why are you wearing those things on your hands?" She asked every question with more apprehension than the last.

"…What is going on?" She finished. The hybrid just stood there, his face twisting from rage into worry and finally into fear.

"I, uh… Listen, ma, this is not what it looks like!" He began, dropping everything else and running over to her. She just looked him over, her anxiety increasing once she spotted the small wound on his head.

"Is that a cut?" Her voice was steadily rising, making Sett panic even more.

"Ma'am, wait! We can explain." Ahri sounded of, running over to try and salvage this. Once again, the feeling of longing returned only this time, she didn't want the source of it to be gone.

"Ahri? You're here, too? What is all this? Will someone please tell me what is happening?!" His mother was in full exasperation mode. A crowd of people was forming around the area, wanting to see what all the commotion was about and the returning stall owners to try and salvage what was left of their businesses.

"Hey, I know him. He's that guy that rode on the rocket carts around town!" A girl from the crowd yelled out pointing at Sett, who snarled in her direction.

"Oh yeah! That's the guy, alright. And that other one right there, too!" Another man pointed at Garen, landing all eyes on him.

"Man, the way they dueled it out on those carts was like WOW! Sword guy over there swiping, Punch man blocking then swinging at him back and forth like pow, thwang, sok…!" A young boy yelled out, having witnessed most of the fight. Sett just stood there frozen, unable to do anything but listen to the praises about the one thing he didn't want to be praised about right now. Once it was over, he looked down… and there it was, that dreaded look of anger, betrayal and disappointment… on the one person he didn't want that look on.

"Mom, just listen. It's not what-!"

"Stop." She raised her hand, processing everything with the other on her forehead, trying to calm herself down. Sett just awaited his doom, hung head and shoulders and knees beginning to wobble. Once an eternity had passed, she looked her son in the eyes. Regret, dread and sorrow… those three were all she needed to display to bring him down completely.

"The one thing I ask you not to do… the one thing…" She didn't sound angry. Her voice was cracking the tiniest bit, but it was there. Her eyes were glistening, nearly ready to spill the tears. Sett watched all of this unfold before him, completely crushing him inside. He was the lowest he'd ever been, letting down his most important reason for staying happy and content. The gnawing in his soul didn't show any signs of stopping. Before any of it got further, his mother breathed in, composing herself and looking at her son once again.

"And? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Sett was silent at first.

"I'm sorry, mom." It was all he could manage.

The party and Ahri stood silent, unsure of whether or not they should intervene. Tonight was full of emotion but no one was sure this is how they wanted it to end, most of all the half-beast, kneeling down to the ground with his hands on his knees and his head humbled.

And then, he felt her claws on his cheeks.

"Apology accepted." She managed a small smile just for him. He could tell she was trying her hardest to keep it up for him, but it was straining her. He could always tell.

"That being said, I'm still mad at you." The mother lifted him up and dusted him off as best she could, patting him on the head once.

"What do you plan to do about all of this? How do you intend to make up for all the mess you've made?" She asked a simple question. Sett breathed out the stone in his chest, glad he was being given a second chance.

"I'll think of something, mom. I always do."

"Not for this. Darling, I don't know if you know, but half the city is in ruins because of your… whatever you did. I don't think anyone's forgiving anything that easily." His mom dropped a bomb on him with that sentence, shaking the others as well.

"Wait… what?" Irelia looked to Garen upon hearing that, who started looking up, gracelessly trying to avoid her eyes.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!" And there it was.

"I was defending myself! What, did you want me to do community service for the city while dodging fists aimed at my face?!" He raised his arms at her incoming accusations.

"No, but not blowing up half the damn place didn't have to be on your agenda!"

"At least I _tried_ following the plan!"

"Don't you go there on me! I was surrounded by killers, in the sights of a shadow master that wanted me dead _and_ had to protect Nami and Akali both! Besides, we accomplished the mission and sabotaged the complex!"

"Oh, so that's what that huge explosion was! Good to know I'm the _only one_ to blame for blowing up the town!"

"Well, to be fair, your fight with Sett nearly caused the apocalypse." Yasuo chimed in, still sipping from the newfound bottle.

"Not. Helping!" Garen grinded out the words through his teeth.

"Uhm… Excuse me? Am I interrupting?" Sett's mother approached them, a bit wary of her causing them trouble and trying to be as gentle as possible.

"Of course not, ma'am." Garen straightened as if he was still a soldier on military inspection.

"We were just having a conversation between friends, that's all." Irelia cracked the sweetest smile she could muster on the instant.

"Oh, I see. Well, may I borrow just a moment of your time, daughter of Xan?" The mother asked.

"Of course, ma'am… Wait, you know who I am?" Irelia shouldn't have been surprised, but she was, part out of another vastaya knowing her and part out of people thinking she might be responsible for half their city being in ruins.

"I do. Therefore I must ask of you a favor." She clasped her hand while lowering head, making this an honorable request. Irelia had no choice but to listen.

"Please help my son redeem himself."

"…Uh… pardon?"

"He was responsible for a lot of damage which he confessed to with you as witness. All of Ionia has heard of your deeds and knows your reputation, how good you are with its people and how you always see the best in them. Settrigh is a good child, but he is having a hard time being a responsible man." Sett's mother laid out the situation slowly, letting the Liberator, a person she had a lot of respect for, take it in carefully.

"I'm not sure if you overheard while you talked with your friends, but I have decided to have him find his own path in life, away from the violence and destruction. The best way for him to that is to find the things that make Ionia wonderful and peaceful as a whole, not just for individuals." As she explained further, Sett joined them all, not in the least bit satisfied about the situation but also having zero choice in them matter.

"I don't know whether it's the hands of fate or pure coincidence, but you being here is the best opportunity for him to do so. You obviously have a lot to do while helping our nation recover, yes?" She asked, her growing unable to be resisted.

"Yes, ma'am. We must all do our part in helping to rebuild, including here." Irelia spoke, glancing over at Garen when she said the last part, the Demacian huffing while looking aside.

"Such a wonderful soul! It is why I plead of you now. Take my son under your wing. Show him how to build properly, not just things but relationships as well." She finally voiced her true intent out.

"Wait, what?! Ma, you can't be serious! Anyone but her!"

"Settrigh." She silenced him a word and a glimpse of demanding obedience, the half-beast quieting down on the spot.

"I, uhm… Ma'am, with all due respect, our path is a dangerous one. There is a lot going on right now-" Irelia began, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"No there isn't. We stopped Zed, the cannons are done and the complex is toast. Our mission's over." Akali chimed in, twirling the last of her kunai.

"It'll be a while before they can recover, years even. We're free to go back to our own missions." She spoke confidently, though she wasn't fully so. Something told her Zed would make good on his promise, but that feeling was silenced for now.

"Well… In that case, alright. But he has to do what I say and when I say. Otherwise there is no room for him." Irelia laid out a few terms.

"LIKE HELL!" The half-beast roared.

"Settrigh!"

"…Sorry, ma. But I mean… come on, you can't just-" He tried arguing but his mother put a finger on his lips.

"I can and I will. Sweetie, this might the only chance you'll get. I know tonight has been one of the worst but trust me when I say you'll be fine. Irelia Xan's a kind person, someone who can see the best in all of us Ionians. She'll help you however she can. And am I correct in assuming he won't be going alone, Ahri?" She turned to the fox with a beaming smile.

"Yes, ma'am!" Ahri did a mock salute, matching her in the smile department.

"Besides, look at them, Settrigh. They are so… wonderful and diverse, kind and understanding. They would make great friends, wouldn't you say?" His mother was on an unstoppable happy train, no one being able or wanting to stop it. She had a weird effect like that.

"Oh, where are my manners? Ahem." She turned to Irelia, giving her a deep bow of respect.

"I am grateful for you taking my son in your care, Irelia Xan of Navori. Please treat him with kindness." She extended her formal gratitude.

"Oh…Uh… Thank you for your trust in me." Irelia bowed in return, the two women sharing one last look, Irelia and her unsure smile and Sett's mother with her wide one.

"Now then, let's all help clean this mess up." And with a final revitalized vigor, she went off, picking up trash and small pieces of debris, leaving the entire group including her son with one giant question in the back of their minds, sliding slowly on their faces.

What the heck just happened?

"...Ionia is the single weirdest place on Runeterra I have ever visited." Nami blurted out, retracting her magic and slowly floating to the ground.

"I'm not cleaning this crap up, just so all of you know." Sett made sure where they all stood.

"Settrigh, honey, could you help me with these knocked over carts?" His mother called out.

"Coming, ma!" And with that, he made sure where they all stood again before running off to help his loving mother.

The group, including Ahri, at long last in this lengthy and silly night, breathed out a collective breath of relief, Nami and Akali collapsing down from the fatigue catching up.

"Anybody want a drink?" Yasuo offered.

"Here, please." Akali almost begged, taking a huge chug from the bottle. At least it was strong stuff as she needed the forced knockout if she was going to get anything resembling sleep tonight.

"Bath. Please. I need a bath." Irelia begged anyone who would listen.

"For once, I endorse that statement." Garen agreed, smelling of ashes, gunpowder and metal as he sat down supporting himself by his arms.

"Oh, _now_ you agree, you pig." She nonetheless sat next to him, not minding the smell.

"…Sorry about earlier." She apologized, feeling a bit bad for yelling at him.

"Me too. I'm just glad we're all still alive… somehow." He admitted, taking a much needed break. The others joined them soon after, Akali cross-legged next to Irelia and Nami, the Marai coiling her tail as she rested on Akali's shoulder. Yasuo drank the last of the bottle, pulling out his flute and playing a soft little tune, almost lulling the others to sleep.

"So… uhm…" Ahri got their attention.

"I am sorry about all of this and that all of you got mixed up in it." Her ears drooped along with her tails, signaling her earnest regret.

"Ahri, was it?" Irelia asked.

"Yes."

"We don't mind."

"Really?" Her ears perked up.

"Girl, we're just glad to be alive. It's been a hell of a night… almost literally." Akali spoke a bit quietly lest she wake up the dozed off Nami.

"Well, I promise to make this next ordeal as easy on you as possible." Ahri said, taking a seat beside them and eyeing the subject of her recent troubles… as well as her happiness.

"He might be a bit of a handful for you." She admitted.

"I can vouch for that." Garen spoke up, remembering the beast-man and their titanic fight.

"Me too. Not to sound pessimistic and ruin this night, but my 'incoming disaster' radar started going off when his mother suggested he come with us." Yasuo said, looking at Irelia.

"Oh, what was I supposed to do?! Say no to someone who looks up to me and miss a chance at redeeming someone like him?" She pointed to Sett and his darling mother pushing an overturned stall upright.

"Keep it down, will ya?" Akali asked, pointing to Nami napping adorably on her shoulder.

"Sorry."

"It's cool. Besides, I don't mind the guy." She looked at Sett… or rather, leered at him with a slight drool and a pervy smile.

"…You don't mind his meat-grinding abs, you mean." Ahri caught her, making a coy face.

"Oh gods yes…" Akali let out her inner thirst for Sett and his toned body.

"Perverts, the both of you…" Irelia was annoyed at their behavior.

"Quiet, you." Akali turned her own phrase against her. The girls looked at each other before Akali began laughing lightly, the others following suit, all of them taking care not to wake up Nami the sleeping beauty.

All of them looked to the now-cleared skies, the stars of the dark canvas noting their toil and brightening their mood with their numerous lights as a much-earned reward. Though the game of fate was over and each of their destinies now intertwined, the Blade Dancer, the Might of Demacia, the Unforgiven, the Tidecaller, the Rogue Assassin, the Nine-Tailed Fox and the Boss enjoyed this serene moment of respite under the starry skies above and calming chaos around them.

For the briefest of times, all was well.

* * *

The doors of the foundry's office building slammed open, Zed marching inside with Onoki and Kayn, his warriors and acolytes dashing out of the way of their raging Master. Once they were back inside Onoki's office and the doors slammed shut, he immediately tried cutting her bonsai trees to relieve his stress, the innocent little things barely saved by Onoki with a fast block of her sword.

"Hey! What did my little babies do to you, anyway?!" She tried redirecting his anger. He fumed at her wordlessly before calming down and taking a deep breath.

"How… how did all this happen?" Kayn was trying to wrap his head around it.

"**Your master's an idiot. That's how.**" Rhaast always chimed in at the most inopportune times.

"Quiet." Kayn was having none of it after today.

"How did they slip in? How did they cause so much damage to my complex? And what…" Onoki began asking, but stopped.

"What is it?" Zed regained a part of his sanity.

"…What did the Demacian do to that cannon for it to fire that powerfully?"

The question that had been in the back of their minds had been asked.

"He fired it… by simply touching it. In order to do that, he'd have to have…" Zed began, analyzed the event, leading them to a likely conclusion.

"…He's a mage." Onoki said it.

"A very, _very_ powerful mage." Zed corrected her.

"Dammit… Now what? We lost everything! No plant, no weapons, no NOTHING!" Kayn yelled out in rage.

"Not quite." Onoki said, pulling out the weapon schematics from underneath her armor, surprising both Kayn and Zed.

"Where did you-"

"From the assassin as everyone was distracted by the cannon. They were practically dangling from her purse, so I swiped them. I told you we should've made a copy." She handed them over to Zed, who looked at her with the most profound gratitude.

"Thank you, Onoki." He calmed down completely after that, seeing the last ray of hope for their plans shine bright.

"I have my moments, but we still need the resources. To that end, we need to delay the operation for a few weeks." Onoki got him back down to earth. Zed looked at the plans, thinking for a few moments before raising his head.

"…Then we can't waste any time. Get the plant up and running as fast as possible." He commanded, putting his mask on.

"And where will you be?"

"…Fae'lor." He said, exiting the office without a word.

He walked over to the roof, seeing the devastation done to the proud Iron City. The people were already hard at work repairing the damage and the quinlons surrounding the city were still holding. Kashuri was still in one of their hands. He then looked to the far northwest, specifically to the clouds and skies. A single thought crept up to him, making him a bit more nervous.

'She won't be happy about this.'


	11. Ionia - Common goals, unclear hearts

**Ionia – Part IV: Common goals, unclear hearts**

Kashuri's prairie had its charms, especially in the mornings; though the quinlons drained the surroundings, they couldn't completely take away the magic saturating the area. Plants and small insects still survived and permeated throughout the vast plains, giving hope that magic would once again fill the region with life. The time for caring about that was on no one's mind except the vastaya, however, as the humans of the Iron City didn't really pay much attention to anything other than working and crafting. As so, the only things that were on the minds of the authorities, repairmen and workers was to get the massive gates hauled from the grounds outside the city and get them fixed, not an easy job to do on five hundred tons of steel, wood and iron. The second, more discreet job the authorities had, however, was to find the seven maniacs responsible for the chaos, one of which was already at the site, silently observing the ongoing repairs in the morning sun and taking in the fresh air.

Although last night was not the best introduction to the city, Garen found the toil palliative to his soul, something he desperately needed to feel as of now. Things were too hectic to fully conclude yesterday so everyone, including the hybrid, his mother and the fox vastaya agreed to put them on hold for the morning, which was part of the reason he was up so early. He wanted one last sight of relaxation before the storm hit and what better way to do that than observing something that reminded him of home? One moment utter chaos and destruction and the next, tranquility and growth; Ionia was truly a unique experience for the rigid and stoic Demacian knight as he struggled to adapt to the vagaries of the sudden and unpredictable changes. He was lucky he had people around him to help him adjust otherwise he'd have been lost or done something to earn the Ionians' ire. Not only that, but his journey here had been filled with things that threw him out of his comfort zone; he met a yordle, battled a sea monster, passed a religious test of the soul, acquired two strange magical artifacts, befriended a vastaya and nearly destroyed half a city… all just to have chance a finding a way home to Demacia. Hectic and absurd didn't even begin to cover it. Throughout it all, however, there was one constant thing orbiting around him, or rather a constant person.

"Enjoying the first light of day already, are we?"

And there she was, always ready, full of energy, greeting the beautiful mornings along with him and starting out positively. Without pause, Irelia sat herself right next to him, shoulder to shoulder and looked out to where was staring.

"Every single time. I must confess I sort of look forward to the mornings here. The light really brings out your homeland's beauty." Garen spoke, still enraptured by Ionia's glories.

"Yes! One step closer to proving to Mister Demacia himself that Ionia is superior!" She exclaimed jokingly, giving the flag-waver in question a haughty look.

"Watch the wild dreams there, lady. They're spilling right out of your over-inflated patriotic ego." Once again he proved a difficult wall to bring down. Like all of their times together, however, it all ended with a laugh from both of them.

"I wonder what you'd think of Demacia, though. I mean, Ionia's colors are nice, but Demacia's grandeur is unparalleled. The white-golden gates of the great Demacian walls opening up to an ever-shining light, illuminating the endless green and blue, beautiful and peaceful villages littering the countryside paving the way to the great cities of petricite and steel. Many are dazzled by the sight, no matter where they come from. You'd agree as well, trust me." He puffed his chest out again, looking more and more like a stuffed peacock.

"No, go ahead. Tell me how much of a patriot I am. You clearly know literally everything regarding that subject." Her snicker earned her a shove on the shoulder, almost pushing her over. Taking a few seconds to stabilize herself, she looked to the knight right as he turned, both catching each other's eyes.

"Alright, challenge accepted." He simply said.

"What? Garen, I was messing with y-"

"From what I've seen of your homeland, its strange sights, numerous and varied people, I've learned that things are incredibly complex and a bit twisted here. Everyone has their own sense of justice instead of agreeing on a collective one and everyone has valid and presentable reasons to think so. The chaos and discord would drive a normal person trying to give it direction mad, yet you have somehow persevered and kept to your own ideals. The whims of the people shake the earth beneath you with their cacophony of pain and selfishness yet you stay your ground, leaping over the crags of ignorance and dancing in perfect balance with the tremors of ignominy. Those that try to disrupt your dance soon find themselves outmaneuvered, shaking and staggering beneath your grace as your blades fly as wings beside you, gusting away your enemies with winds of conviction. Despite your disposition toward it, I think that your capability to lead is unparalleled. To say it best, you embody everything that is passionate, peaceful and graceful about your homeland and anyone who says otherwise needs their senses forcibly realigned." He finished his grand 'speech', turning away to look at the light and the toil coming from the city. It really did remind him of her in many ways. His thoughts were stolen away by her laugh, which was steadily rising.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Do you, like, get up in the morning, wash up, grab some poor mirror by its hinges and then rehearse these speeches of encouragement and praise? I'm honestly surprised you haven't taken up an acting career or something back in Demacia." Irelia spoke through her laughs, hands on her stomach to contain the growing pangs of air deprivation no thanks to the Demacian knight's overstuffed grandeur.

"Wha-?! I-?! The very _nerve_ of you! Here I am pouring my heart out and you take all it has to offer and laugh it away in the trash! Hmph!" As he said that, a part of him latched on the comment about the acting thing, praising him as a good one. He ignored it for now and crossed his arms, not wanting to look at the chuckling offender next to him. A gentle headbutt on the shoulder crashed those plans in the ground, however, prompting him to turn his eyes on her once more.

"Thanks. In spite of your over-the-top silly homilies, I appreciate it. I just wish…" She began, but stopped. That nasty feeling crept up her spine again, worming its way to her brain and impeding her warm thoughts, replacing them with doubtful ones.

"Wish what?" He snapped her back.

"I just wish I could do more than just help you find a way home. I wish I could make you feel more than a simple soldier. You are, believe me, but I want to help you see it. I… want…"

More time. That's what was on her mind, but she stopped herself from saying the words in fear that she would anchor him somehow. It got him trapped in Noxus, stuck him in Bilgewater and dragged him to Ionia. Throughout it all, she saw how much he loved his home, despite its shortcomings… just like she did. He tried to protect it even from itself, but one person cannot change a nation. They could only help guide it and those that followed them. Still, the example was theirs to set and doing it, much less being one, was stressful and hard work. She wanted him to relax and take a breather, something she saw he sorely needed, now so far away from Demacia. In the deepest retreats of her heart, though, she knew she wanted one more thing.

She wanted to be together with him as long as possible.

… The question was why.

"What?" The knight put her back on track.

"I… Do you… Do you think I might be able to visit your homeland? Someday, when all the world's troubles are gone and when Demacia decides to open itself up to magic?" She asked, strangely timid all of a sudden. She didn't know why she asked that and why now of all times. She thought it was the sense of adventure waking up inside her, but it was still a small spark, counting it out on the spot. A passing thought reminded her why: he didn't belong here. He was needed at home and it was her duty- nay, her _promise_ to see him return. She felt strangely wishful to compare him to his kingdom like he did with her and to see whether or not he was all that and more. Why, she couldn't say yet, but she was sure those thoughts would iron out in time as well.

Time… it was something she felt she was running out of. She looked to the sun, the warm rays washing over her face, untouchable horizons on the farthest sights and the glory of her homeland nearest to her, slightly dimmed by the quinlons' deeds. She loved it all, the grandeurs and the imperfections. She wanted him to love it as well, something he was well on the way of doing so… even though he wouldn't be here for long…

Yet again that infernal thought sidetracked her. Why? Why did she want that? Why did she want him to stay even for a scant few seconds more?

"Should such a time come, I would cross Runeterra once more just to invite you."

The answer fluttered her chest a little bit. His lavish responses were easily used to, something she did back in the Serpent Isles, but this was something else. The way he worded that made her hopeful for many things, including the length or at least, the quality of his stay in Ionia. There was a lot here he wasn't comfortable with and she was keen on fulfilling the promise she made to him back in Bilgewater with renewed vigor, especially since last night's events. Kashuri wasn't the best presentation of Ionia's traits or soul even though it was a part of it. A bit of a twisted part, yes, but a part still. In time, it would change back to the wonderful and life-filled area it was and the city itself would be free to choose its own fate, not adapt to forced change and circumstance. Garen and Nami simply saw the Iron City on a bad day, for everyone involved. She wondered if the Marai would want to stay with them still after yesterday. She certainly wouldn't fault her for leaving. That burden was hers to bear. A heavy one, to be certain…

"… Do you really mean that?"

It left her mouth before she could even think of stopping it. She kept her eyes on the horizon, part not to meet his and part pondering on his words and how strong their connection was with her own. It felt like the entire day passed, scenarios and responses swirling in her head, all of them ending in him being realistic and both of them agreeing it was a simple gesture and nothing more. When the sunrise began to seem like a sunset in her mind, she turned to him, what little courage she had left preparing her for the answer.

"Yes."

Simple, honest and firm. Nothing less what she'd expect from him.

"Is that so? You'd brave a brutal and merciless empire, endless sands or biting tundras, seas that host unimaginable monstrosities and your own stigma on magic… _just_ to invite me to Demacia?" She asked, steadily playing out the first conversation she had in her head. His skull was the densest material in the world, she knew first-hand, but she doubted it could hold a reality dose this large back without receiving a few cracks.

"Mmmmm… Yep. I'm good for it."

He didn't even feel it, it seemed. That unwavering confidence slowly stoked the fires of hope inside her, the sparks producing new scenarios in her ever-swimming head with a different plot this time, one filled with joy and a simple dream.

"… You wouldn't last a second without me on your first day outside of Demacia. You know that, right?" This one wasn't accusatory or testing, but levied and happy. Part of her still hated the way his confidence and smile rubbed off of her so easily. Luckily, the other nine tenths welcomed it. She loved seeing it, though not once did she admit it, promising herself she would _never_ confess that part to him lest he grows a thicker skull that was even emptier than it currently was. She didn't want to test the possibility of that coming to pass. As her thoughts came to an end, Irelia noticed the knight's expression. Unlike their other times of banter, it was contemplative, almost focused.

"If you said that to me back when we met in Noxus, I would've agreed with you a hundred times over. Hard to believe, isn't it? I seem so commanding, knowing what to do in a fight or any other crisis. Truth is I'm just doing what I was trained to do; I observe my options, assess the situation and make the choice. Beyond Demacia's gates… well, I don't really know much about the world or how things work in other parts of it. I just… do what I know and what I can." He started out his thoughts with that focused look and furrowed brow.

"Now, though… I realize that Runeterra is… big. Putting it mildly, I know, but nothing else I can do to describe it properly. There's so much in it, some would say maybe even too much for anyone to know what to do with. Still, I wouldn't have gotten used to it all, probably getting lost along the way many times over." The Demacian knight continued, still looking at the toil of the city, which was now fully awake and about.

"Throughout my journey, I realize it's not just about seeing the world, knowing what to do or persevering through the hardships it throws at you. Those are ever-present, the good and the bad things. Those we meet along the way, however, are the most important experience anyone on this grand world of ours. You, Fizz, Illaoi, Fortune, Nami, Akali… There are so many to count… All of you have been my gateway into Runeterra, her wonders, her strangeness and her beauty. All of you have helped me through its dangers in your own ways, picked me up when I was down, made me understand how things work in your regions, had patience with me when I tried learning and most important of all stood shoulder to shoulder with me during every battle we faced together." The knight's ever-loved smile graced his face for reasons other than Demacia or his family. The aforementioned was bright and confident, as if he knew their best qualities would never change. This one, however, was different… lighter, softer and kinder. Irelia knew what was coming and wanted to turn away, but she also wanted to make sure Garen was going to be alright. The way his expression trapped her and prevented her moving both her body and mind made that wanted assurance a reality.

"I never would've seen or felt how beautiful this world was thanks to all of you. But most of all, I never would've made it at all were it not for you." The trap did its work; before she could even register it, the warmth of his hug prevented her from acting at all, her mind not caring whether or not it wanted to think. All she felt and thought was how kind and grateful he was, his honesty successfully communicating that through his embrace.

"I'll always be indebted to you for that." Unfortunately, it was a short-lived moment as he parted from her, looking her in the eyes and breaking her free from the trap of his own kindness.

"Ugh… Y'know, you might be on to something regarding that whole 'practice speech in front of the mirror' thing, the only thing inaccurate about the statement being the actuality of it. W-What I'm trying to say is… Thanks for sticking by. You're one of the few kinder people on Runeterra regarding that fact, no matter what your motives for doing so are." The knight once again looked to the toil, his mind at peace and feeling loose once again.

"That being said, I think I'll be fine. Could do without your sharper-than-your-blades tongue, if I'm being honest…"

"That tongue steered you clear of certain death scenarios every time I wagged it." She welcomed the distraction.

"Along with chopping off my pride and dignity on many an occasion…"

"You could do without those two overstuffed ego pumpers and you know it. Besides, you sound better when you screech rather than when you mew and embarrassing yourself by mistaking it for a roar."

"…Was that an attempt at a compliment or an 'I'm-actually-insulting-you-by-pretending-to-compliment-you' implication?"

"Little bit of A, little bit of B."

"Never change, Irelia. Never change."

"Who, me? Pfffft." With a final fistbump, they enjoyed the morning light, sounds of the city and the warmth of both the city's atmosphere and the sun's radiance. Both the calm and the bustle slowly began reminding them that they would not be staying for much longer. There was no place for them here, even before the chaos they caused.

"There you both are." Akali intruded on their meeting, though her tone implied it wasn't for mischievous purposes.

"Good morning, Akali." Garen greeted her.

"Early for a loud snorer, aren't you?" Irelia had her own version of that gesture for the assassin.

"Blow me, Knivey. Anyways, we got a… situation. Several, actually. Sorry to crash this pillow-talk of yours, but we got problems on our hands and we need more of them. Hands to help, that is, not problems to handle. Off your asses, let's go." She seemed more impatient than her usual self, something both the knight and the dancer noticed. With a shared look of curiosity and acceptance, they stood up and joined the assassin as she led them to the Shady Springs and into their shared room. The others were already there, Nami still treating Yasuo's cut from last night with her magic while the wind warrior fiddled with his sake bottle, eagerly waiting to take his wake up sip, not being allowed to due to the Marai's treatment. What stood out, however, were the two newest additions to the group who were now sitting across the table, the taller and larger of the two impatiently tapping his finger on it while the lither and calmer of the two sat cross-legged, trying to focus and ignore the former. As soon as the three walked through the door, both of them perked up and each for their own reasons. Garen and Irelia were surprised and a little bit guarded and wary to see them here this early.

"There you are, you conniving, dirty, sniveling little _rat_. You owe me a fight, an arena and a city-load of money." The larger figure stood up on the spot, making everyone stand on guard.

"…Good morning to you too, Sett." Except for Garen, who learned rather quickly what kind of man the half-beast was after fighting him to a standstill twice and nearly escaping him yesterday.

"When exactly did you get here? I didn't see you this morning." Irelia asked a bit tensely, having not met the crime boss on her way out.

"Right after you left, according to the shorty over there. Been wanting to talk to Justice Boy. Or fight him, whichever's fastest." Sett cracked his knuckles, saddling up for a fight in a flash and putting the five on the defensive.

"Ok. People. For real. It's _way_ too early to start fighting and getting kicked out of places. Can we not do this?" Nami, preventing Yasuo from moving too much and reopening his wound, came short of begging the group to stop and reconsider not wrecking the inn or, stars forbid, the entire city this early in the morning.

"Ain't my place so I don't care. One way or another, I'm getting my money and my fight." Sett was ready to throw down, unfettered by reason and caution.

"Sett, that's enough. Remember what your mom told you." Ahri finally intervened, not wanting to use the Half-Beast's only tether of morality against him, but deciding that choice was taken away the moment Sett saw Garen. The hybrid turned to say something but stopped, thinking for a bit, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally scoffing and relaxing his stance. The others were still on guard, Garen and Akali with their hands on their weapons while Irelia's crest shimmered slightly. Even Yasuo's grip tightened around his sword's hilt. The only ones who were trying to remain calm were the lone worried Marai and the agitated nine-tailed fox.

"Ok, everyone's at least here… We can begin to search for the answer to yesterday's question." Ahri began, putting a crack in the ice but not managing to shatter it.

"Only if he behaves." Irelia pointed to Sett, whose knuckles were still balled and almost cracking.

"He will. Right, big guy?" The fox' implying nudge to the half-beast turned his attention, meeting her condescending and scowling face.

"…Fine. I wanna talk to the bitchy one too, anyways." Sett pointed with his nose and mouth to Irelia, who furrowed her brow, her crest following along and splitting slowly and angrily.

"Sett." One final warning from Ahri reminded him to watch his mouth for now.

"Alright, alright… Damn, you people messed up my entire week…" Grumbling with disapproval at his current situation, the half-beast sat down cross-legged and cross-armed, signaling the others that he was ready to talk, despite him hating to do so. The group looked to Ahri, who nodded after seeing Sett's reaction; though she only knew him for a day, the half-beast was easy to read given how honest he was with his own feelings, especially if they were ones of dislike. At her nod, the others sheathed their weapons, Irelia's crest retracting itself into a dormant state but ready to spring up just in case. The half vastaya had a dangerous eye for Garen and she would not let him be harmed after all he went through yesterday.

"We should all properly introduce ourselves. My name is Irelia Xan. Pleased to meet you." The Blade Dance introduced herself with a small bow out of courtesy.

"I am Nami, Tidecaller for the Marai and on a quest for them. How ya'll doing?" Nami decided to perk up, hoping it would catch on to everyone else in the room.

"Akali, former Kinkou, solo assassin, single and looking. 'Sup?" The Rogue Assassin presented her credentials, emphasizing the two last ones in particular.

"You already know who those two brainless excuses for human beings are so therefore, we'll skip to you." Irelia simply waved over to Garen and Yasuo, the former making his 'How-dare-you?!' face at her while the latter was trying to reach for the nearest bottle of alcohol, one barely being kept out of his hands by the Marai. Ahri and Sett looked at each other, silently agreeing to play along for now.

"Allow me to reintroduce myself, then. My name is Ahri and I am a wanderer, searching for my lost tribe… clan… whatever it is I belong to. This here is-"

"I can do it myself, woman." Sett snapped at her, prompting a defensive raise of hands and apologizing droopy ears from the nine-tails.

"I'm Sett." No further pleasantries needed from him, or so the rest of them surmised.

"Sett… I could've sworn I've heard that name somewhere before back in Navori…" Irelia tried remembering something, the thought barely out of reach. It gave the half-beast a worried look; the Liberator of Ionia was a well-known figure back in Navori and across all of Ionia, so he took **extra** precautions not to draw her attention, knowing that she was too busy with the rebuild and defense shore-up of the province. One wrong step and his entire underground empire would find itself at a blade's edge. As if to mock him, the gods added yet another obstacle in that regard; the Blade Dancer's connection to Karma's current host and maybe even the spirit itself. He was never good with overpowered women trying to capture him and having two of them against him, especially in a time of turmoil, was never a good thing.

And now here she was, a hair's breadth away from slicing his throat with those strange blades of hers. Kashuri was definitely a bad choice for a vacation and business expansion.

"With the rep I have, I'm probably known across all of Ionia. I'm kind of a big deal, literally and figuratively." Sett boasted bogusly, hoping to throw off the Blade Dancer.

"Hmmm… If you say so… Well, it doesn't matter now. What matters is getting out of this city alive." It worked as she dropped it and focused on their current predicament. The others simply hung their heads, trying to assess the satiation they were facing; in just one day, the group of five wanderers, two of which were complete outsiders, singlehandedly destroyed a small district of the single biggest manufacturing center in Ionia. To say people were angry was like calling a star a mildly warm campfire. They needed a way out and they couldn't rely on Irelia's reputation seeing as how their enemies had the pull of the strings in Shon-Xan, the province in which Kashuri rested.

"We are in the deep end, aren't we?" Nami broke the ice, looking at them all for answers as she had insubstantial ones of her own.

"Irelia and I have gotten out of worse. Yesterday was a blind shot, but we still managed to pull through alive somehow. We'll figure out a way, especially with all of us here." Garen sought to it to lift the group up from the ground they wallowed in.

"Thunder's right. The only problem is our window of time… and those two." Akali eyed the newcomers with suspicion. Though the half-beast was real easy on the eyes, he was still an unknown and volatile factor to their current predicament. The nine-tails was also a bit of a mystery, given how there were no sightings of a vastaya such as hers. Although she confessed she was searching for her clan, she didn't say what for.

"Well, introductions are out of the way, true, but why don't we get a little bit about who you really are and what you're doing here." Irelia suggested, trying to maintain the order.

"I'll go first. As far as I've known, I've been the only one of my kind. Until recently, I've always been alone, trying to contain my powers. You got a glimpse of them yesterday, but that was just the tip. My goal is therefore twofold; to gain better understanding of myself and my powers and to find out where I'm from and where my clan went… or to find closure if I'm truly the only one of my kind." Ahri explained her quest and a bit about her life, hoping to slowly get them to open up. All of them except Sett were a bit on the cautious side, not just from yesterday but with everything and everyone around them. They had their own troubles to deal with already and wanted to know if she and Sett were gonna be either one more, helpful or just passing through.

"The truth of the matter is that I don't really have anywhere to go, abodes to rest in or people to rely on. I…" She looked uncertain, struggling to find the words to describe herself, as most mortals these days are wont to do. Maybe that's why she felt more bound to humans than to her own kind.

"I think I may have reached a point in my journey where I cannot find answers on my own. I need a little bit of help. And I think that's where he comes in." She pointed to Sett, who still sat cross-armed and scowling at the others.

"You've already met his mother so you know how helpful she is. She gave me a little tip about my origins, something I had never heard about before. As for him, well…" She hesitated a bit, as if wanting approval. He never said anything, waiting patiently for the fox to continue.

"He's a complicated matter, but I think he's not that bad of a person. A bit of a loud mouth, a shady arena boss, a rowdy fighter and a bit of a hothead, but still…" Ahri listed off some of Sett's 'qualities'. The others waited, still unsure what to make of the situation.

"I see. Well, if you'll cause us no trouble, I think all of us here wouldn't mind if you tagged along for as long as you liked." Irelia was the first to speak up, seeing as how she put them in it in the first place.

"You… Wait, you don't mind? I thought-"

"Listen, I'm going to be completely honest here; we have bigger things to take care of. The Noxians are amassing for yet another assault, unchecked and unchallenged. The Order of Shadows is also vying for control in this tumultuous time, destabilizing us further. You can tag along, I told you I won't mind, but one; our missions are dangerous and risky, two; you have to pull your own weight in case something goes wrong and three; you try anything shady with us and you lose your heads. Three simple terms and nothing required beforehand to follow them. Easy, right?" Irelia calmly explained the situation to the newcomers, turning to Sett in particular.

"As for you, I'm not exactly a hundred percent in with this situation with your mother, so I'll give you a fair warning and a simple set of rules; you will do as I say at all times-"

"Bite me, you grimy wh-" Sett began but the millisecond his tone rose, Irelia's blades found themselves at his throat, driving everyone leaning over the edge a little bit more. Sett suddenly remembered why he wanted to avoid her.

"...Not one more breath." She began, straining her patience to its limit which was signaled by a glare sharper than her blades aimed at the half-beast, who prayed his lung capacity would hold out during her tirade.

"You will do as I say at all times. You will not leave my sight or ears for a second. And if, by some otherworldly logic and reason, you decide to hurt anyone here, _him_ in particular…" She pointed to Garen, who wore a sheepish look on his face; it was his plan that put them all in this situation, despite circumstances beyond their control having a say in it and now Irelia was once again taking the brunt of it. All of a sudden, Illaoi's words of them getting in each other's way came back to him, despite him trying hard to forget them.

"…the last thing you'll ever feel is your throat bleeding out, the last face your eyes see is my own cloaked in fury and the last thing you feel is only utter regret for the stunt you decided to pull. Are we clear?" She gave her warning to the hybrid, who nodded in return.

"Crystal." Sett simply said, not wanting to provoke the Liberator any further, who took a moment to ascertain his genuineness before retracting her blades from his throat.

"Now that that's out of the way, back to the more important matters; how do we get out of Kashuri undetected and where do we go from here?" Irelia asked, uttered threats to life to the beast-man notwithstanding to her group as they had more pressing issues to deal with.

"Not gonna be easy. Thanks to that fiasco yesterday, not only are the gates being repaired and heavily guarded, but they also have the city being combed for us or any sights of us. We're on the fringes of the district so it'll be a while before they find us, but time is running out by the second, so I'm thinking we got three options. One; we fight our way out. It's the riskiest but most certain, seeing as how we got experience advantage and the element of surprise since the last thing they'll be expecting is a frontal assault." Akali began laying out the plan.

"Let's put that in the pocket for now. Don't wanna risk anything just yet. What's number two?" Garen asked, eager to get out of this infernal city as soon as possible. Getting away from his newest acquaintance, however, was a fleeting daydream at this point but that would have to be dealt with in time.

"Number two is sneaking out using one of trade routes since those are the only things allowed in and out without too much supervision. Disrupting trade, especially with the renewed attacks by Noxus and the Brotherhood, is terrible for all the provinces." Akali was a bit on edge, signaled by her trademark kunai twirl being accelerated.

"…It's that bad?" Garen asked. Akali simply nodded, not wanting to elaborate as time was still ticking.

"We'll fight through it all, if we have to. We've given up too much to outsiders that want to take it all and never return anything. Right now, though, we need a plan. What's the third option?" Irelia continued for the knight, eager to hear the assassin out. Akali hesitated all of a sudden, a fact not unnoticed by the dancer and everyone else.

"Akali? What's up? What's the third option?" Irelia egged her on.

"You're not gonna like, just a fair warning." Akali spoke up after a second.

"We're open to any ideas at this point, Akali. Share with us anything you think might be of use, even the smallest details. We'll figure something out together." Garen patiently nudged her. After a small deliberation, Akali sighed and looked them all in their eyes.

"… We use him." She pointed to Sett.

"What?" Only Sett spoke it, but it was on everyone's mind.

"How'd you get your op running up so fast, mister Boss? How'd you sneak the resources inside Kashuri without the Order and Kashuri Security noticing? How'd you pass the word out?" Akali asked three simple question that got everyone thinking a lot more clearly now.

"… He knows the smuggler routes." Yasuo surmised what they thought.

"Exactly. Not gonna lie, the first two options were on the low end of this short ladder of bad ideas we're stuck with. At least this way, we'll get out undetected and move up with our missions hopefully unobstructed. Provided, of course, Abs over there agrees to both escort us and not double-cross us." Akali surmised the flavor of the boiling pot of water they were in. They were fortunate enough to get lost in the chaos and remain obscured, but the fog of uncertainty was slowly fading and they would soon be in the sights of an angry city and a massive organization of hardened killers. Their options were limited and they were burning sunshine. Everyone's eyes were now on the half-beast, who raised an eyebrow.

"Hang on, let me get this right. All five of you, two of you which cost me my arena in Kashuri and blew my cover, now want me, a guy that has absolutely no reason to help you at all, to put myself at risk just you can frolic around Ionia again?" He put everything together quite nicely, confirmed by a nod from all of them, including the fox beside him. He breathed in, quietly contemplating the situation and with wisdom unparalleled by those present, he opened his perceptive eyes.

"Go to hell." Truly a response of unparalleled insight and courtesy.

"You sure about that?" Ahri suddenly perked up, making Sett turn to her with a questioning and warning look.

"Yeah I am, Foxy. Why, what're you gonna do, lecture me?" His tone implied finality and confidence, something Ahri was somewhat keen on breaking. He wouldn't be open to learning, otherwise.

"No…" She looked away as if in defeat, a coy smile forming on her face.

"Yeah, that's what I th-"

"But I'm gonna tell your mom."

And just like that, the half-beast's confidence was flushed down the howling drain. He began fiddling his fingers, his expression swapping erratically between rage and worry. The other five could almost see the process of his sweat beads forming from his pores, slowly coalescing into droplets streaming down his forehead and cheeks.

"Foxy, why are you doing this to me?" He swiveled around to her, somehow combining rage and pleading, forming a mixture of a grimace and puppy eyes as he demanded an answer and wouldn't turn away without one.

"Because she was right. You need to take a good look at yourself and to do that you need to know what it's like when others lead. And who better to get you started than Irelia Xan, miss 'Turns-back-Noxus-by-herself' in the flesh?" Ahri pointed it out. She hadn't forgotten why she was here, sticking by this person that many would call brute, unscrupulous and, after last night, madman, perhaps madbeast by some. In truth, he was a teetering wooden bridge that connected the human and the vastaya, at least for her. She had to strengthen the ropes of sanity, repair the damaged planks of reason and clear the fog of rage surrounding it, quite the tasks for one person. Who knew what the future held, though. Maybe her newest acquaintances would help in some way.

Whatever the case, she had to try.

"Look, I know you don't like taking orders, but we're kinda stuck here in terms of options. They're gonna be searching for us too as there's always strength in numbers. The least we can do is try and get along for the time being and until we're out of the city. Then, should Irelia say so, we'll be free to go. Right, lady Xan?" Ahri reasoned as best she could with the half-beast, turning to Irelia for the final part.

"Correct… meaning you're stuck with us as much as we're stuck with you, therefore…" Irelia formulated her suggestion, ending with a solemn expression.

"Truce until we're done with each other?" Simple as far as suggestions go, but then again everything was simple on paper. Sett contemplated a little bit more seriously this time, knowing that to reject the offer meant going back to his own pit of self-loathing but accepting meant putting his throat on the edge of a blade, about a dozen of them in this case. He tried weighing all the consequences in; how his people would react, what they would, how the rumors would spread and they _would_ spread as was their nature, what would the outcome be if he ran and came back for another go once stronger, assuming his current 'captors' didn't advance their strengths as well. He weighed in Ahri's words for some reason; would he have to choose between socking his dad in the jaw and trying to build a better life? Whatever he thought of, however, all came back to a simple question, one that kept repeating at the end of each result.

What would his mother say about it?

It was strange to him, coming back to that same question every single time he had to make a decision; all the other times, it was natural as he was doing everything for her sake. This time, however, he was forced to ascertain his place in this tumultuous land, something he hadn't really thought clearly of. What was someone like him capable of doing here, besides fan the flames of the underground fighting pits and punch his to the top? Fighting was in his blood, he didn't deny that; though he loathed admitting it, his father did him a favor in that regard. The other half of him, however, was different. It didn't egg him on but rather asked him to stop and think about who he was, where he stood and what he looked toward. He knew that side all too well, one that belonged to a person who wanted and saw what was best for him and in him.

He raised his head, looking at the people he met just yesterday. Irelia Xan was the first to catch his eyes; she was determined, passionate but cold as steel and commanding. He got a bad feeling right off the start about associating himself with her in _any_ way imaginable. Still, there was something strange about how she agreed to do the favor his mother asked in the first place. Maybe it was altruism or maybe she wanted to prove herself in the eyes of her people. Either way, they would not be becoming friends anytime soon… or ever, if he had an extended say. The little assassin was next, eyeing him with both admiring and calculating eyes. She was young and zealous, though about what he couldn't tell. She wasn't half-bad looking, he admitted, but her feistiness reminded him of Ahri and one teasing woman was enough in his life. Judging by the way she hid her kunai just out of sight, he knew that one wrong move, both of mouth and extremities, would land the thing in his throat. The Marai was next, finishing tending the wound the wind warrior had received last night, seemingly unconcerned with the outcome of his decision. She considered helping others to be one of her priorities, seeing as how she paid more attention to injury than to insult. It made the beast-man like her for some reason, though he never voiced it aloud. As soon as she was done, however, Nami turned her head to meet his eyes, Sett's dark pink orbs conveying exactly how he felt about the Marai and her kind action, Nami giving a small smile and nod in return. Yasuo was next, eyeing the Boss with suspicion, his guard up at all times since his arrival here. He was measuring the half-beast, trying to pinpoint weaknesses and discern strengths. By the bored look in his keen eyes, however, he could tell he was used to doing this to people. He was a loner and was only sticking with the group for his own purposes. He was familiar with loyalty, however, and would not turn his back on his companions. All in all, despite their diversity and differing goals, they were a tight-knit group and watched each other's sides and backs. He turned to Ahri, who held a hopeful look on her face. Under her façade of bashfulness and seductiveness, she was a person that meant what she said when it came to bettering herself. He just hoped it wouldn't cost him too much of his hard-earned rep.

As he turned back right then, however, from the corner of his eyes, he caught the one person he somehow managed to ignore, given that he was the reason this all started in the first place. The Might of Demacia eyed the half-beast with an unreadable expression, as if waiting for something. It hearkened Sett back to last night, when Ahri spoke the same about his challenger, strangely driving into a curious state about the only man that was able to go toe to toe with him. He didn't look like he wanted a fight, giving credence to his words from yesterday, nor did he seem interested in Sett's next move. It seemed like he just wanted out of Kashuri at this moment, a feeling Sett shared with him.

'I fight who I must, not who I want.'

He meant what he said, it seemed. Although Sett was a little disappointed knowing that fact made getting a proper rematch unlikely, he respected the Demacian's honesty and straightforwardness, that last one in particular since there wasn't a lot of it in Ionia.

"Well?" It was all Garen said reminding them once again that time was short.

"…Fine." For once in his life, Sett threw in the towel to someone other than his mother, a feeling he was not on good terms with. There was no space for alternatives in this case, something he told himself to ease the pain.

"Very well, then. Option number Three it is. We leave immediately. Pack your necessities, people. You two, I assume you have no further obligations to fulfill here?" Irelia took command almost instinctively, something Garen didn't fail to notice and turned away so no one can see the uncontrolled smile forming on his face. The others apart from Sett and Ahri began prepping, while the two in question shared a look.

"How long is this gonna take?" Sett asked, not keen on spending a long time on a leash.

"How long is what gonna take? Be specific, we got more than one thing on our hands. If you're talking about our own mission, it's probably gonna be a _long_ time. Wars don't end and begin in a single afternoon, Abs. If you're asking about Fishy, we don't know if we're even gonna _find_ the Aspect of the Moon on our journeys together. That's who she searching for, by the way. Yasuo… well, he does his own thing, so ask him. As for Thunder, well, that depends on the obstacles in his way; how many are there, what are they, what can be done about them and whether or not he can go at them alone. To answer your question, I don't know. It depends, I guess." Akali spoke while packing her backpack and readying her weapons, the others following suit.

"Seriously? Ugh…" Sett groaned out. He was certain the period servitude would last at least until they were out of the city. He never factored in they would be getting out the city together with the same idiots that cost him his business opportunity.

All in all, he was on one knee in front of people he _really_ didn't want to bend it to.

At that moment, however, he felt a hand on his own. It wasn't unlike his mother's touch when he was down, having almost the same energy. The warmth and concern were there, but there was a bit of concern as well, though it was not for him. This is what prompted him to turn, facing the source of said hand.

"We'll be fine. You just gotta rein that impatience of yours in, focus on what's ahead and keep cool and collected. You'll get through this." For some reason, he expected his mother. What he got was a fox vastaya's golden eyes and soft, determined face.

"I'll help you out if I can. All you gotta do is ask." Ahri was strangely comforting in that moment, unlike her usual teasing and business self. It was a feeling Sett was wary off, however. Getting close to her was bound to invite all sorts of disasters, both from those who would do them harm and themselves.

"Alright, I get it." He pulled away, though not forcefully, making the fox's ears droop from disappointment a little, perking up instantly when he got up, along with getting the group's attention.

"We're ready." He spoke for both of them.

"Then take point. The rest of you, on me." Irelia spoke, though it came off as an order in Sett's mind, something he utterly despised. Still, he grit his teeth and slid the door open, unsure of what he was getting into, but deciding to brave it anyway. He had his own goal to accomplish… although with regarding what that goal was, he still was on the fritz.

Behind him, Irelia took her first steps confidently yet tentatively, making sure they were measured and on point. Though she wouldn't admit it, Garen's words stuck by her; she was a capable leader and a great fighter, but she needed to start ascertaining it. As such, she had to put the confidence and experience she had gained to work. _Much_ more was needed to turn the tide against their enemies, but that would come in time, with each victory earned and with every Ionia helpless and innocent life saved. Her hopes were many, but not all would be realized as she had only begun to understand. No matter what came her way, however, she would save as many as she could. It was, after all, the foundation of her beliefs, to fight for her homeland and her people, to inspire those who would stand beside her and protect those who couldn't. It was going to be a long road… but Irelia Xan would walk either until her feet gave out or she reached the end of it.

Akali followed the Blade Dancer, still a bit unsure of her own path in life. Assassin work suited her almost too well; from a young age, she studied harder than anyone in order to earn her place among her former brothers and sisters in the Kinkou. Shen saw this, taking her under his wing personally and training her in the deadliest ways of the Kinkou. Now, however, with war on the horizon once more, she wondered if he trained a bit too well. In her years wandering the First Lands, she had more than once questioned why she followed the path laid out before her. She told herself there was nothing else for her, but it was a lie to stave of the sharp spear of truth; she didn't know what else to do. Still, she had direction for now, looking to the person in front of her, a young woman like herself, already done great deeds and still capable of doing even greater ones. She wouldn't admit it, but she wanted to follow her as long as possible, part to keep her alive and part in believing the Blade Dancer had the right idea about living out life instead of fighting to the death.

Garen certainly seemed to think so. The knight's pride in his friend swelled, given that she was slowly taking that first step on the road to building the better life and times she dreamed for. The thought gave way to another, though, one that's been at the back of his mind even before this adventure even began; what could he do to change Demacia for the better? The exchange he had with Katarina on the top of that lone tower in Noxus proved he was more than willing to embrace it, but the fact that he even had a thought of change meant that something was _very_ wrong with Demacia as a whole. Its laws had begun to deteriorate, much like the proverbial stone they were engraved upon, eroded away by the tides of time. There were times that even before, he would stop and think to himself whether or not what he was doing for his kingdom was the right thing. It all came to a head with Sylas' escape and Lux's choice. In that passageway when she led the refugee mages out, however, he began realizing something; underneath the stone laid a diamond, rough, uncut and unpolished. This diamond, nigh unbreakable and dazzling, represented all that Demacia rested upon currently; ideals of hope, courage and virtue that protected and guided all of its inhabitants. At that same moment, however, when he finally understood what Lux was trying to do, he also realized what she saw; the diamond could only be shaped by the people of Demacia, not its values and laws. He wasn't quite ready to admit it back then, choosing part duty and part family as there was some wiggle room for both, but after his capture and seeing Irelia in action, her personality and her beliefs, he finally admitted that magic, although dangerous, wasn't responsible for people being the way they are. He looked to Irelia right as that thought ended, seeing her move forward with her hopes and aspirations with confidence and care.

She truly was something special in his eyes.

Beside the knight, Nami floated forward, gripping her staff tightly, poised to accomplish her mission. Ever since she stepped out of her home and into the world of Runeterra, she had met all kinds of people on her journey, frightened, suspicious, wary, solitary, stoic, brave, friendly and kind. There was much ignorance present, from themselves and their squabbles to the worldly threats of natural disasters, famine, haywire magic and monsters to the outer and world-ending ones, the Void and the mythical World Runes in particular. Once she saw this ignorance, she took it upon herself to fight back and open as many eyes as she could. Though many still remained closed, some were slowly starting to flitter open, giving the young Marai hope for the world. As for her people, she carried it for them in the form of the Tidecaller Staff and the unbound courage she had to undertake her quest for the Moonstone. Everyone tried to talk her out of it but she remained steadfast, ascending to the surface to fulfill her self-charged duty. She had come across many hardships, things that would make everyone else want to turn fin and swim home, but her wish to see her home safe was greater than anything fear held over her. Her perseverance paid off at times; she had met many helpful and kind people on her journeys, many of them worthy of being called friends. This bunch in particular, however, was her strangest one yet; most of them were not easy to get along with, Akali and Yasuo in particular having harder heads than most. Irelia was accommodating even in the worst of times, but she too kept to herself most of the time. The only one she truly got along with was the person she least expected to, a lone Demacian knight that led the most elite force the magic-denying kingdom had. They argued, bickered and even fought on several occasions, but somehow they always stood by each other, ready to fight for one another, watch each other's backs, raise the ones that fell and smile at the end of a long and grueling day. She wasn't going to be with them for long, a thought that somewhat began eating her psyche. Nami could never choose her friends over her duty… which is what made the perfect alignment of them helping her with her quest while carrying out their own glad she didn't have to.

All she could was help in the best ways she was able.

Yasuo wasn't sure what to think; he had always wandered alone as it was better for everyone involved, himself included. The wind had guided and protected him in his time of need but lately, with the recent return of the invaders and the incursions of the Brotherhood of Navori, he became strangely thoughtful of his own future. Dying was easy for him and everyone he fought, but living through these rough and strange times had been more of a challenge than any foe he met. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he had fought and wandered too much to actually live through it. What was his future going to be now that he was alone, self-exiled from his own guilt? Ionia welcomed him back because he was one of her children, yet he never felt any strong kinship to anyone here. There was only one worthy of that title… and he cut him down with his own two hands. He brought all of this on himself and no amount of forgiveness from others would banish his deeds. The bottle wasn't a good way out, but it sure dulled the pain that never seemed to disappear. Thinking of the alcohol, he had a strange urge to look at the ones trying to prevent him from reaching for it, the young Marai and the Liberator. Even Mr. Justice himself was starting to join down that road, but Yasuo knew the knight didn't mind as long as it didn't do any harm to the group or to himself. The other two were different; they felt a bond with the wind warrior, something he loathed trying to build. He was afraid and he would be the first to admit it, knowing that Ionian bonds were very easily severed, often by the people that forged them. Call him dull all you want, but Garen had a point when he said that magic is not an agent of stability, something humans intrinsically sought out in their later years. Maybe it was time for him to start searching for something as well. As he had that thought, two people in particular flashed before his eyes, the first being a little stone sparrow with a naïve but courageous view of the world, while the other was a flightless bird, her wings as broken as her sword. He didn't know why he thought of them in that instant, but he didn't particularly care; they made him feel comfortable and content.

Maybe he would follow this path a little longer.

Ahri was not comfortable around so many people, to say the least. A lot of their emotions were controlled and somewhat in balance with their mind, a feat which was impossible to pull off for extended periods of time by humans. It made her even warier, not helped by the fact that Sett was on edge. He had been coerced into doing something he loathed and it was showing on his face and soul, not helped by the fact that the others expected him to do it without question. He did agree, but they could've been less remorseless about… the man that was an underground arena boss… and was most likely involved in other illegal activities… and also wrecked at least a quarter of the city trying to get his money's worth… Ok, maybe they had a point with the attitude. All she felt, however, was that the next few weeks would be agonizing in terms of keeping the group from murdering each other; Sett had a _titanic_ beef to pick with the Demacian for lots of reasons, money being the center of them all. She understood why, but she still couldn't fully agree with them. It was selfish of her, as most things in Ionia were. Ahri didn't blame them at all, however, or at least that's what she told herself. After seeing the dregs of both humanity and vastaya, the future seemed a little less bright given the choices made by them and regarding them. Kind-hearted people always gave second chances where none were needed. She hoped this group in particular had sound judgment in that regard. Something told her they would not open up to her and Sett just like that.

Once more, she didn't blame them. It was the prudent thing to do and right now Ionia could use more of that.

Sett, only caring slightly for the fox, simply moved forward unburdened by any doubts. His mother mattered most and he was going to come back to her one way or another, even if it meant bowing down to others or putting his debt collecting on hold. He even resisted the urge to turn around and make sure Garen followed; despite him wanting that proper rematch, some things were more important to him. The notion of Ahri being correct about him having to choose was not lost on him.

It didn't deter him in the slightest.

* * *

The bustle of Kashuri was weighing down on the day and its people, all of them busy with their own daily routines and obligations. The repairs were going smoothly with almost the entire city pitching in to help in any way possible, from working hands to cleaners to the simplest tea maker or storyteller, all of them helped in their own way. In these times of peace, the large captain of the guard sat on her large chair placed on the outer walls overseeing the gate reconstruction almost unseemly calm. A lot of people didn't know she had a tranquil side to her, something Zed realized from the way she tended to her bonsai trees. Although the portrait of her and her parents was still in her office, she felt they were always with her one way or another. She just wished her mother's spirit would be at ease, a futile longing given how her father turned away from the higher path a long time ago. She looked out to the prairie, seeing the tiny remnants of magic still flickering about trying to restore the land to its natural state.

Natural… magic was so ingratiated to Ionia that life was unimaginable without it. Yet here they were, proving that wrong bit by bit with every creation forged, be it for war or peace. The people of Kashuri did it with their own hands and skill, rarely any of them using magic. Some still did, but those were few and far between. The city council's decision to use quinlons did not sit well with a lot of folks, however, the majority of them being Kashuri's own citizens who reveled in the land around them teeming with life and spirits eager to praise and spread word of their work. Now it was just about making things, the passionate craftsmen and creators retreating to their workshops, only reappearing to make some living out of their craft, the fire of their soul long dimmed from burnout and worn down by recent events. She shifted her swords, deadly katanas of her own making; she had skill with the forge ever since she was five years old, an improbable age and profession for a girl of her upbringing. She loved it, though, hoping that one day her craft would aid in Ionia's defense. It did in a way, just not the way she intended. She wanted to help fight, having trained with her swords every day until her coming of age, when she eagerly awaited her send-off to the front lines. And then word reached them; the war was over and the invaders retreated to the outlying shores of Ionia, the decision being made to not pursue them any further and hoping they've learned their lesson. Like her father, she was infuriated with those that made the decision, particularly the one who supported and enforced it, the Liberator herself. On that day, her admiration for the great Irelia Xan crumbled, replaced by loathing and feeling of abandonment; many felt she turned her back on her own people, especially those that wanted revenge for the unjust atrocities committed against them. She wanted appeasement, thinking it was justice and the right thing to do, and thus resolved herself to fight for it, hoping one day to swipe her katanas at the Blade Dancer's neck.

But now on this day, Onoki Saori, Kashuri's guard captain, sat quietly in contemplation, looking out to a once-glorious homeland, drained in the pursuit of progress, a goal considered most noble by the eastern provinces.

The idea that this almost-wasteland, picked clean for a higher goal than itself, mirrored her own soul was not lost on her.

Before her thoughts could go any further, she smelled mint on the air, approaching her slowly from her right. It was her favorite flavor of tea and only a select few knew that about her.

"Before you ask, Master Zed told me it was your favorite." Kayn answered the unasked question, grabbing a chair for himself and putting the tea next to her before sitting down.

"…Why?" Onoki wasn't that much of a fool to expect kindness for nothing from people like Zed and Kayn.

"An apology from the master for the swipe at your bonsai trees. He wasn't in his right mind then." He put Rhaast upright, the scythe almost levitating on its own, and turned his full attention to her.

"Tell him I said not to worry… I can stop him again and again." She grinned, unsheathing a katana and twirling it.

"I see the repairs are going smoothly. The plant will up and running in five days, a lot sooner than we expected. Our forces are a bit thinned, but that shouldn't be a problem once word spreads and more recruits join us. I've taken the liberty of spreading the wanted posters all over the province as soon as they finished being made last night." Kayn made report on the current situation, not having any kind of ice breaker with the large woman.

"Last night? Damn, Edgelord. You ever sleep?" His stamina frightened her sometimes. Or maybe it was something else. Either way, she turned back to her city.

"I caught a few winks, don't worry. I'm fully rested for today. We have fugitives to catch, after all." The young apprentice steeled himself even when sitting. He eyed the crowds like a hawk, hoping to spot a sign for the seven wanted criminals, the half-beast and the Demacian in particular. The fox was also up there, given how she humiliated him yesterday. Rhaast was right about one thing; revenge would be divine.

"Yeah, we do." She shifted her view as well, looking for any signs of the wanted people, Irelia Xan in particular. The glimpses she caught of her yesterday were more than enough to stoke the fires of rage, including the ones on her swords. Although she didn't particularly care about the rest, the Demacian and the wind warrior were also high on the kill list as well. After a full half hour of looking, however, she started to get bored.

"Edgey?"

"…You ever not gonna call me that?"

"You ever gonna stop being you?"

"Ugh… What is it?"

"If we win this war, what're you gonna do afterwards?"

It was a peculiar question to him, one that hasn't been asked of him before. Zed never asked such things and only focused on the present and what needed to be done. Thus, he didn't have a concise thought, much less an answer regarding it.

"I will assume my place as head of the Order, defeat the Darkin within the scythe and rule the shadows." He responded as best and simplest as he could. Onoki wasn't convinced, judging by her grimace.

"… And then what? You think you'll go unopposed in your ways? I mean, if that would be the case, what the hell are you doing _fighting_ here?" Another hard-hitting question.

"If Ionia doesn't wake up and see that the only way to drive Noxus back is through a show of might, then we might as well keel over, bow and die. We cannot be lax in anything, which is why Master Zed called for these gruesome tactics in the first place. The moment the Golden Demon escaped, things got strange between the master and the leader of the Kinkou." Kayn admitted, having been part of the second chase between the fugitive known only as Khada Jhin and his two most persistent pursuers. He was obsessed with enacting something between them, something he kept coming back to. This time, however, something was different; the Demon wasn't interested in killing them or setting them on each other. He was… call me crazy on this one if you wish, but he was looking for something." Kayn explained the operation. Before coming here, the Kinkou and the Order banded together to capture and outmaneuver the once-again-escaped Golden Demon, or so they told the last part to their rivals. Zed, although pained by it, had his own secrets to keep, an irony that was not lost on Kayn given his master's distaste for them. Before they could silence him forever, though, Shen intervened, claiming he needed the Demon alive. The agitation grew further when he wouldn't tell them why.

It was more than a turning point for Zed, who ended the alliance on the spot. Although no blood was shed, they didn't part on amicable terms. Kayn wished no fighting to come between both orders as he respected Shen too much to pick a fight over even the most serious of things. The fact he and Zed hid a dark secret from him, however, complicated things a bit. He wondered what awaited them should they be found out- no, _when_ they would be found out. It was only a matter of time before the Kinkou's and Shen's judgments came for them both. Would he accept it gracefully, embracing the darkness he spent his life in… or would he run, ever evading the light's gaze?

Whatever the case, he hoped to be by his master's side when the hour came.

"Tuula Prison just isn't what it was hyped up to be, eh?" Onoki took a sip, savoring the cool mint taste before turning back to the prairie.

"That or the Brotherhood sprung him out again." Kayn remained on the lookout for the fugitives.

"What? How? Tuula is a goddamn fortress, surrounded by quinlons and their prisoners' shackles reinforced by them, too. The only way for people to even know what prisoners are present-"

"-Is to obtain permission from a council member." Kayn waited for Onoki to piece it together.

"The Brotherhood's reach is that long?" She did so marvelously. Despite her violent and hotheaded tendencies, she really did have her hear screwed on the right way.

"Indeed. Master Zed was content with leaving them alone, given they left us alone, but now with their numbers growing as much as ours, he fears another reprisal. Blind, zealous fools… It's no wonder they're like that, though, since they take after the Liberator." Kayn gripped his scythe while mentioning Irelia Xan; the Blade Dancer trounced them yesterday, even managing to gain the upper hand against his master somehow. He didn't share many details yesterday, given how he dashed off toward Fae'lor. A thought crossed the young shadow warrior's mind; Zed was never this driven in his goals until _after_ leading a squad into the ruins of the once-Noxian occupied city. Now it was a ruin and Zed wanted to find out why in order to better prepare their defenses, both the Order's and Ionia's, having initially planned to tip the council off should there be a threat. Instead, he came back with a resolve for battle, his tactical mind already having put together a plan. When the order heard it, however, more than one member was doubtful of the idea. Zed himself seemed a bit on the wary side as well, seeing as how he voiced his personal dislike for the plan, yet chose to go along with it once he and everybody else was convinced it was the only way, by his own words no less. Using foreign weapons was something of a taboo among Ionians with the land and many of its species and spirits succumbing to them in the first invasion and the Order, although radical, was still in keeping with said tradition.

The apprentice furrowed his brow in contemplation; whoever this new 'ally' was Zed found in Fae'lor was either a force of reckoning or a skilled speaker.

He prayed to the gods it wasn't both.

"What do you think of all this, anyway?" Onoki asked, her sight not swaying from the prairie, spotting several dancing lights in the distance, little spirits trying to restore some of the magic in the area.

"About what?" Kayn wanted specifics.

"All of this. Irelia Xan, those idiots following her, that Demacian with the glowing hands, the oncoming invasion, this so-called 'plan' that Zed is trying to enact, all of it. What do you make of it? Is it… right?" The massive captain of Kashuri's guard forces, a woman who would by all means pick a fight rather than wait for it, was now suddenly contemplative. No, that wasn't the word… 'hesitant' was more appropriate here given her voice contained tinges of fear rather than wisdom.

"I don't know and frankly, I don't care. As long as Master Zed says it's what's best for the Order-"

"Holy shit, you ever _not_ gonna kiss that guy's feet?!"

She swiveled around, looking almost threateningly at least to those that didn't know her. Kayn stopped his search, turning to face her as well, smelling an unavoidable argument brewing.

"Mind your tone, Onoki-"

"Or what? No, no. Go ahead. Tell me. Threaten me under your master's little boot like the dog you are. Because let me tell you, Edgelord, it's all you can do at this moment. No Zed to stop me from letting you know what I really think of you and to not block my blades or my fists." Onoki got a furious look on her face, clearly fed up with the Shadow Reaper, who simply grabbed Rhaast.

"**Ooohhh… this is getting messy, right? Please tell me this is getting messy.**" Inopportune as always, Rhaast poked at Kayn's mind, who held both him and the urge to fight back.

"Then tell me, Onoki. Speak freely." He simply challenged her, ready to argue whatever point she had to get out of her chest. Ever since they met, they've been at odds and this was a reminder that even though she was their ally, she wasn't fully onboard with their agenda.

"That's ironic coming from you, but let's save that point for later. From the day I met you, I've had this gut feeling about you, like there's something missing from your system. I thought it was a brain, but you proved that wrong yesterday. I thought it was a heart but you are considerate when it counts. Today, however… Today I realized what that was." She stood a little taller, her twintails flipped behind her and her angry scarred chin exposed, bearing a knowledgeable smirk.

"You're missing a spine, Shieda. All you do is take orders, always depending on others and never going off on your own." Onoki was just beginning.

"Dependence? Is that what you call loyalty? Oh, right. I forgot you don't know the meanings of certain words. Now that you've had a few moments to yourself, finally discovering reason and tearing away from your own temper, you suddenly begin spouting wisdom. That's honestly beyond quaint." Kayn simply fired back, knowing that escalating this led nowhere, but unable to stop for some reason.

"Ha! You really gotta start taking your own advice and open that dictionary of yours, start correcting some definitions. Loyalty? Don't make me laugh. If your ambition is to take your place in the Order, then why are you so loyal to the master you will eventually usurp? Pay attention to my words, now. 'Usurp'. That's what I said. You're gonna have to fight him for it and you know it. If he leaves you in charge, he's just gonna come back once you start keeling. And you _will_ start keeling, Shieda. You might be a skilled warrior, but a skilled leader? All you'll lead your Order to is oblivion." Her smirk turned into a straight line, showing her disdain.

"As I am now, I would agree. But people grow, Onoki, something you need to get yourself desperately acquainted with. Whether is with the help of others or by their own means, they get to where they want to be eventually." A simple retort, one that didn't slow her down at all, however.

"And then what? What're you gonna do once you get to lead the Order?" She, on the other hand, managed to halt him for a bit.

"I… will continue-"

"-Your master's teachings and mission." She finished for him. Kayn opened his mouth, but had nothing to say back, closing it slowly as the contemplation overtook him once more. Even Rhaast's whispers were almost nonexistent as he thought about a question he hadn't asked of himself.

What was he going to after he reached the top of the Order of Shadows?

"Shieda, can I ask you one more thing?" It wasn't venomous or mocking. She genuinely wished to know.

"What is it?" For a reason that was a mystery to him, he didn't feel like pushing her out.

"From the moment you were born and raised, has there ever been a point when you've actually made a decision about your life on your own?"

The noise from below was seemingly silenced for Kayn all of a sudden, as if time itself stopped. His mind was quiet as well, having no answer to the question which he somehow ignored all his life. As if on cue, a revelation struck him, one that threatened to further destabilize his thoughts. Thank goodness he was smart enough to block out the Darkin before he really started tearing into his mind.

"… There was one." He admitted, having told her of how he acquired his weapon, a fact that he was unashamed to admit and one that Onoki exploited at this very moment.

"… When you took the scythe." She spoke the words.

"… When I took the scythe." He repeated.

The silence turned to stillness, both of them standing across each other without any actions taken to stir the peace. They both felt they needed it a bit for now, Onoki trying to justify her own choices to herself while Kayn tried to find anything resembling such in his life other than food and drink preferences, combat styles and kill choices. The difficulty came not from trying to find any, but from the quagmire created when they abandoned the better ones in their lives. It was almost inescapable, like quicksand, drawing in the more you struggled, the choices left behind screaming at your soul while the ones you picked slowly tightening their grip around you with every whisper of you inability to return, citing your own push to close the gates to your own redemption while justifying themselves to you. Unfortunately, in most cases the whispers of negativity were louder than the shouts of positivity. You needed every ounce of will you had to even hear a single word from the latter while at the same time drowning out the former.

Kayn and Onoki had more than enough of it, however.

"In these moments of peace, I sometimes wonder… what kind of person would I be had my mother not died. Would I still want to fight? Would I still want to gut that dancing bitch?" She clenched her fists, trying to hold back her urge to scream at everything. Screaming would do nothing, merely make matters worse for both of them and maybe even cause a commotion, something they didn't need right now as the Order's and the Guard's attention was needed elsewhere. Kayn had neither an answer nor a witty retort.

"It doesn't matter right now, does it? We're here and that what counts. One way or another, we'll both get through this. If not, well… let's just focus on living through the day." The Shadow Reaper's darkened heart held just enough love to provide a small encouragement. He hoped it was enough. Time was slowly resuming around them, the motion of the crowds catching his attention.

"… You asked me if I thought what we were doing was right." Kayn continued, breaking the mind's hold on time and resuming the noise below and the world around them.

"You have an answer now?" Onoki turned to the prairie once again, strangely comparing it to her own future.

"I don't. I'm still struggling to understand the question, if I'm being honest."

"Yeah, that sounds like you."

"I'll have an answer eventually, though. Before all this is over, I'll figure it out and then come back to you on it. I promise." He turned to Onoki, her large back to him and her twintails swaying in the wind. It was a rare sight, seeing this behemoth of a woman quiet and stoic, the wrathful fires of her soul now reduced to embers of peace.

"… Thank you, Onoki."

"… You too, Edgelord."

"**… Well, that was anticlimactic. Not even a drop of blood.**"

"Shut up, Rhaast." Kayn silenced the Darkin as he returned to his vigil, joined by his acquaint- his sister in arms a moment later.

"Done contemplating whether or not you'll burn my hair off?" Kayn asked, glad to have her by his side, though he would never, _never_, **never EVER** say it to her face or to anyone else.

"That's still on the table, but I figure you need help finding our quarry. After the conversation we just had, I don't think your eyes are in that good of a shape." She nudged him lightly, Kayn feeling like being hit by another rocket-loaded cart and almost reeling over.

"Thanks, I suppose…" He rubbed his shoulder before grabbing Rhaast and continuing his vigil. Despite their differences, they still stuck by each other and most importantly, had a job to do.

"First Apprentice, Lady Saori, we have news about the wanted party." And it couldn't have come at a better time, it seemed.

The Shadow Reaper and the Smoldering Blade turned to the acolyte delivering the news.

"Let us hear it." Onoki unsheathed her katanas while Kayn let Rhaast's hunger out, the Darkin eager to sink his blade into flesh.

* * *

Kashuri's streets were always busy with peddling, transporting inventions, travellers from all over Ionia and beyond and the occasional fireworks setoff, but today all those values were tripled due in no small part to a concealed party of seven now going through them all, traversing the streets until they reached the Xiao Guai bar. Entering inside, the leading figure signaled the bartender, who pointed him toward the upper bar.

"You idiots stay here. I gotta go… take care of some business. After that, we're off." Sett took off his hood and rushed upstairs, leaving the group to take a breather… as much as they could from the atmosphere of the bar. To Nami and Irelia it was a bit suffocating as they were used to familiar faces and open skies, while Yasuo and Akali found it peaceful to be able to easily blend in. Ahri and Garen didn't mind at all, both of them being used to being around people, each in their own way.

"Why are we here, anyway?" Nami asked, making sure her face displayed her discomfort.

"Beast-Man has to say goodbye to his mom." Ahri didn't bother to hide it.

"What? I thought he had some sort of-" Irelia began but was cut off.

"He doesn't. He's just too embarrassed to admit it." The nine-tails simply sat on one of the free barstools and waited for the half-beast to finish his 'business.'

"How long is this gonna take, anyway?" Akali was not a patient person when it came to important, nation-related stuff. She hadn't told anybody what she planned to do yet, but she was saving that for when they were safer and away from most ears, especially the Order's.

"Half an hour, maybe. They get… sweet around each other. He doesn't like others to see it, though. 'Bad for business.'" Ahri explained, mockingly imitating Sett's tone with the last part.

"Momma's boy, huh? Well, that's a few points off in my book." Akali sat next to her, figuring that resting her feet was better than not doing so for the road ahead.

"How many?" Ahri was curious to the assassin's score criteria.

"Five… out of a hundred."

"… The abs were worth that much, huh?" The fox surmised where that massive number came from, compounding it with a giggle at the end.

"No! ... Ok, yes, but the tiny ears and the arms were at least a twenty combined. So… Hundred and twenty, I suppose." Akali tried wiggling out of the fox's guile, but relented once she knew she was ousted, by her own self no less. Ahri's giggling intensified, prompting an eyebrow of curio from the assassin.

"What's so funny?"

"Fair warning, Akali. He's not into your type." Ahri simply spoke, having already gathered an idea about what kind of women Sett was into.

"Oh yeah? And how do I know you're not just trying to keep him for yourself with that kinda talk?" Akali was not one to give up, it seemed. Letting her down gently was impossible, but Ahri was sure she had taken many a hard landing in both physical and emotional manners and could therefore take this one.

"Alright, I'll drop it. But don't say the warning wasn't given." Ahri let out one final giggle before ordering her favorite moon hyacinth tea. The others joined them shortly after.

"Where've you guys been?" Akali asked.

"Figuring out where do we go from here. Shining Knight and Miss Liberator remembered it would be easier if we all participated in that decision." Yasuo sat comfortably on a stool, ordering a bottle of strong sake for the road ahead.

"Thanks for the credit, Yasuo. Before we do so, however, all of us need to be present. That means we can't start, since one is missing." Irelia sat down gracefully between the assassin and the knight.

"Is he usually like this? I mean, I don't know how long you've known him, but you must have some idea." Garen didn't even bother with a stool, knowing he would damage or break it in all his armor and simply leaned on the counter.

"He most likely is, meaning he's gonna take his sweet time. So… we chill here for now, I guess." Ahri's tea arrived, the fox eager to taste the wonderful liquid once again.

"Yay! Already on a much needed break. So, let's start off with that gorgeous-smelling tea." Nami's tail coiled around her barstool's spine, the young Marai eager to taste the tea Ahri was having. The six travellers had a bit of time to themselves, relaxing and getting to know each other for a few brief moments.

In the upper floor, the half-beast entered his VIP room, where his retinue awaited, along with several other high-profile clients, who simply raised their glasses to his entrance. Thankfully the latter group didn't know about yesterday's fiasco, so he had a little time to salvage what was left, warn them about their covers loosening and getting the hell out of this city. He just hoped he could secure his freedom the same way and it most certainly wasn't because of Irelia Xan that he was leashed to her right now. No, that reason waited patiently in the back of the room, happily munching away at the vegetable meal in front of her. She always took such good care of her own health, unlike him. Sure, he ate properly, but when it came to using that energy he was a bit more reckless than she wanted him to be.

Well, maybe a lot more. He tended to downplay these things out of habit around her.

"Settrigh, darling!" His mother saw him, waving him over with the purest smile on her face. He wanted that smile to be on her every single moment of her life. An impossible task, given how he was and how much she worried for him, albeit for the wrong reasons, but he wouldn't give up. Nothing was more important to him that her… save for socking his old man in the face. He stopped himself for a moment at that thought, knowing why he did it; the opposite sides within him fought for control, each giving him their own valid reasons for trying to do so. It was tearing him apart inwardly, something he couldn't walk off or deal with.

Ahri really was right; he'd have to choose.

"You and Ahri rushed off so suddenly this morning, I didn't even have time to cook you something. Where were you? Did you eat? Where's Ahri? What happened to the others? What is-"

"Ma, stop. It's fine, we're all fine. Look, I need to be quick so just listen, alright?" He didn't like interrupting her, but time was of the essence.

"Me, Ahri and them… We talked some things over and it turns out they need a lot of help with… something I can't mention." He let the words linger a bit, his mother processing them.

"… If it's going to be something like yesterday-" She turned stern, prompting Sett to raise his hands in defense.

"No, ma! Nothing like that, don't worry. But the thing is… I gotta be away for the day. I'll take care of some stuff with those guys and then me and Ahri come right back for your delicious spiced curry with steak and veggies on the side." He assuaged her, trying to swap the subject to what she liked doing as to not worry her, although if he was honest, his belly ached for her cooking even if he just ate.

"Only if you return before I make enough for everybody. Oh, I just love having people over, especially if they're friends of yours-" His mother began, but was interrupted by her son.

"They're not coming. After we get our business done, they'll go their separate ways. Not sad to see them go, to be honest, but I felt like I needed to tell you." The half-beast confessed, making his mother inquisitive, but understanding nevertheless.

"If they say so. Oh, I should've known better than to bother the daughter of Xan. She must be so busy hunting down those that threaten our land and criminals in general." She felt bad all of a sudden for asking that favor of her.

"Eh, don't worry about too much. So, now that that's done, I gotta go. See ya later, ma." He turned before being grabbed by the arm by her claw.

"Ahem." She pouted with a miffed look on her face.

"Sorry, ma." He smiled, leaning in for a kiss on her soft cheek and putting a smile on her once again.

"Stay safe, darling." She returned to her meal, happy that her son is finally getting some direction in life, even after yesterday. Maybe it was premature to assume that he would follow someone other than himself without question, but yesterday was a bit hectic in terms of events, emotions and city-wide destruction, making having clear heads almost impossible. Still, the group Irelia Xan lead seemed level-headed despite everything happening around them.

"I love you, mom." Those four words meant more than anything he ever said to her.

"I love you too, Settrigh." And she knew it, responding with an even greater amount of emotion behind hers. Maybe someday, he would match but as he was right now, it was but an aspiration. From the corner of the room, his two lieutenants approached him at his command.

"If anything happens to me-"

"Yeah yeah, boss. We know what to do." The tattooed woman almost brushed him off, Sett just grinning in return.

"You gonna be ok, boss?" The man in the conical hat asked, a bit more concerned for his well-being, as well as his job.

"I'll be fine. Just… take care of her before I get back, will you?" He took one last look at his mother, the vastaya finishing her meal and ordering dessert.

"Maybe we should have someone trail you, boss. Y'know, just in case?" The man suggested.

"Nah, more attention attracting that way. Better I go alone." Sett reasoned, knowing what kind of people were after them.

"But ya ain't alone, are ya?" The girl smirked, the implications of the fox and he not lost on Sett.

"Shut up and keep an eye on my mom." Sett turned away, not even fazed by such things as there were more important ones to take care of.

"You got it, boss." Both of them replied simultaneously before heading off behind his mother, blending in with the guests and watching over her. Sett headed out the door, thinking long and hard on the way out. A lot of people depended on his business and he couldn't simply bail out on them by suddenly retiring to a normal life. Whether people admitted it or not, Ionia's underbelly was still violent and bloody place where the disgruntled ones could vent their anger, hoping to run across a Noxian or two to slice in as many pieces as possible. He told himself he didn't like the violence, but he still kept coming back to it, an itch that no matter how much he kept scratching always came back for another spin. At times he wondered if he was cursed to this life, a feeling he got rid of by fighting a few bouts, part to forget, part to remind the people who was the Boss and part to make a living. At the end of the day, every time he saw his mother, the feeling vanished. Every time he came back to that arena, however, it appeared once more, dragging him down to it and not waking him up until the coin was flowing, his opponents were in the dirt and the crowds roared.

The more he thought about, the more he loathed himself, knowing he couldn't get out if he tried. Before he realized it, he was at the bottom of the stairs, standing out among the crowds of his bar and looking for somebody. He found her, sitting next to their new acquaintances, sipping her tea adorably with her ears bent even more so. She spotted him as well, waving him over while the rest of the group looked at him in relief, mostly because they were finally getting this show on the road.

'Might as well see what this 'friends' thing is all about…'

He walked over to the party, the six getting ready to leave and Sett eager to get on with his life. Today, however, was a bit different; he had a strange feeling of levity, a sense that things would turn out for the best.

"Whacha happy about, Setty boy?" Ahri asked, already sensing his radiating emotions even though his face hid them.

"Nothing, just thinking abou- Wait, what'd you just call me?" He did not seem to take to the name.

"What? You don't like it?" Ahri asked.

"Never again. Understood?" He did not, in fact, like it.

"Would you hate it if it was your mom calling you that?" It wasn't implying anything at first, but the more both of them thought about it, the more Ahri grew playful with the insinuation and the more Sett didn't give a damn.

"No, I wouldn't. She'd have a good reason, though. She always does."

"Pff. Momma's boy." She let out that sweet, ear-caressing giggle of hers.

"And damn proud of it." He snapped his fingers, letting out a chuckle to complement her own.

"Ahem." Irelia's irate throat clear broke their reunion as the others patiently waited for the beast-man to guide them out of the city. The others were also on varying degrees of patience, from Nami and Garen calmly waiting on him to Akali and Irelia indignantly tapping their foot and finger respectively. Yasuo was too busy trying to fit the bottle of sake on his belt, a task which he marvelously succeeded in before turning his attention to the group.

"Alrighty, then. Let's get this worst idea of a group rolling." Sett simply spoke, put his hood on and headed out, the rest of the group following his every step.

* * *

The commotion at the Shady Springs Inn was starting to get noticed even by outsiders as the Kashuri authorities were all over the place, sweeping and searching for the fugitives. Onoki and Kayn were on the site as well, trying to obtain clues the others might have missed.

"We're honestly getting nothing here." Onoki spoke, her katanas still out and eager to singe flesh and spill blood. Kayn simply scoffed, knowing she was right.

"They had a few hours head start, but for them to have escaped so quickly… They must be getting help from someone." He connected the pieces, the final point still eluding him, however.

"No choice, then. Question the locals and search their houses if you have to. We will find out who is harboring them or helping them escape." Onoki gave the order to her people, who fanned out to accomplish their task. Kayn on the other hand, was still in thought.

"I don't think that's going to accomplish anything, Onoki." He surmised the situation.

"What? Why?"

"Think about it this way; Irelia Xan is with them. Although she has people against her, a lot more are on her side. A _lot_ more. They're not going to give her up easily or at all. Second, the process is too slow and they'll be out before we even get within ten paces of wherever they're hiding. Lastly, as we've seen, they're quick on their feet and with their thinking. Knowing these facts, they won't be at the city's exit since it's too risky for them. The only way for them to get out now…" Kayn stopped, finally getting the last piece of the puzzle.

"… Is with someone who knows the unscrupulous ways out. But who?" Onoki finished it for him. A moment of clarity passed before both of their faces lit up.

"The half-beast!" They screamed at each other in realization, quickly dashing out of the room.

"Everyone! We're done here! Start combing the city for the large half-vastaya! Move out!" Onoki yelled as she busted through the inn's doors, Kayn shadow-walking through its walls and trailing right behind her with no less zeal, leaving their people and the inn's staff and guests bewildered and spooked.

"Where are we heading, Onoki?" Though he followed, he asked still, wanting to confirm if her mind was below boiling point and she didn't just charge out on a whim.

"A bar just two blocks down. One of my informants saw the beast-man and that fox vastaya enter it last night. I'm thinking-"

"Information."

"Let's call that Plan B." She grinned that bloodthirsty grin of hers, putting Kayn even more on edge.

"Onoki, cool head. If they're not there-"

"I know! Stop fathering me around, I already got one. I promise I won't do too much damage… Heh… Hehehe…" That was a lofty promise on her part and she knew it, another reason Kayn knew he would get to play babysitter once again. A part of him didn't mind, though. After the humiliation delivered to him yesterday, his pride itched for a little payback.

"**You really should follow her advice more often.**" Rhaast sensed his thoughts, chiming at his opportune times.

"When they're appropriate for the situation, Rhaast. I'm sure you can tell when that is, being the old, wise and powerful Darkin you are. After all, I'm sure it's not because of prudence you were trapped in the scythe, right?" Kayn fired back for once, making the Darkin grumble in return.

"**Ah yes. Prideful, thanks to others elevating you on a pedestal. Keep raising your head further, though. It exposes that weak throat of yours.**" Rhaast threatened him back. Unlike the other times, Kayn took it to heart.

"Don't worry, Rhaast. Unlike you, I have people to hold me down, just like you said. Who do you have, by the way?" He asked, silencing the Darkin for the time being. Not only was the silence welcoming, but the thought of putting the Darkin in his place swelled his satisfaction further. He kept his cool and focused on Onoki and the mission ahead; he knew that one wrong move and he would be consumed further by the power he sought to obtain.

"Pick up the pace, Onoki. They won't stay in one place for too long and we need that trail to stay warm." He sounded eager and determined, having failed in his tasks before. This time would be different. There was too much at stake as it was.

"Keep up, then!" The captain sped up exponentially, almost rocketing off through the street and people, somehow not managing to harm any of them, a fact that didn't escape Kayn, who simply sped through the walls and shadows of Kashuri. Any other time his master would've reprimanded him on using his powers without drawing attention to himself. That same master, however, would simply encourage his full use of them, citing restraint as weakness.

And on this cooling approaching high noon, vengeance has never smelled sweeter.

* * *

The gates were almost fully repaired, only the titanic hinges now being set into place by the massive machines and cranes manufactured by Kashuri's factories themselves for just such occasions. Though the city was prepared for anything, the response to that anything took a while to get to the site of the same. Despite it all, trade and crafting continued, the pride of the Iron City unsquashed by the steel gates which were now standing upright with it, the citizens and visitors from all over Ionia flocking to and from them. Through the bustle, the seven fugitives now moved with vigor, with Sett having said that their goal is close by. He led them to the river, now flowing with water once more thanks to Nami waking up from her nap for just a few moments to put it back yesterday, a deed she was proud of as it helped many, both fish and people.

"Alright, we're here." Sett signaled the group to stop in front of the river canal. It was a peaceful sight, unobstructed by guards, Order acolytes or anyone trying to cause harm, just people feeding the fish, kids trying to catch one and their parents congratulating them if they did or comforting them if they didn't.

"What? Sett, we're almost at the gates. Not the safest place in the city right now…" Akali could almost spot the crossbows on the towers and walls on the sides of the great steel doors. Lucky for them, their attention was on the repair site and not the group consisting of two vastaya, a Demacian, an self-exiled wind warrior, a hybrid, an assassin and the woman that led Ionia to its greatest victory against Noxus.

"Which is what makes this the best smuggling spot in the city. Y'see, everyone thinks nothing gets past Kashuri's defenses. Well, they're right…" Sett descended into the water, trudging through the small current searching for something. He finally found it, it seemed, as he stopped in front of a plant-covered large iron grate where the river flowed from the prairie and into the city.

"… But no one thinks to travel underneath them." Brushing the plants aside, he pried open the grate with using nothing but his sheer strength.

"Ladies and gentlemen, one secret passage in and out of Kashuri, at your service." Sett motioned to the opened grate which was slowly branching the river. The others shared a few looks among themselves.

"On which side does it come out?" Akali asked.

"Is it safe?" Garen picked up.

"Is it tall enough?" Ahri continued.

"How many can it fit through at once?" Nami grew curious.

"It doesn't lead through a sewer, does it?" Yasuo was not keen on slogging through another one.

"How far is it to the other side?" Irelia finished it off.

"Will you all SHUT UP?!" Sett was unable to keep up with the volley of questions leveled at him. Taking a second to get his bearing straight, he turned to all of them.

"North, yes, yes, all of us, no and five minute walk. Happy?" He answered their questions nonetheless. The others murmured approvals and nodded in return.

"Well? You gonna come down here or not? I don't like getting my crotch soaked all day. Wait, that came out weird. Ugh, whatever. Get down here and let's get this day over with already. I got better crap to do…" He made it clear just in case they forgot he didn't want to be here any further than he had to. The soothing current wasn't doing him any favors on his costly trousers and shoes, not to mention the explaining he had to do should his people or, gods forbid, his mother found him like that before he dried off.

"Hold on. Before we go, I need to make sure of something." Irelia suddenly piped up, turning everybody's attention to her.

"And what's that?"

"Whether or not you will return to a life unworthy of you and your mother. Remember why you're here in the first place." She reminded everyone of the reason they were putting up with him. Sett in particular grew angrier, not liking the prospect of being reminded about yesterday night and the utter destruction his business suffered. It also reminded him of why he was after the Demacian and maybe also the wind warrior. The others in the group, however, were not so sure on Irelia's timing on this matter, Akali exasperated at the Blade Dancer for forgetting they were pressed for time, Ahri not wanting another fight to start, possibly making Sett take another step back after the pain she went through to get him to take a single one forward. Garen and Yasuo didn't want their de-facto leader to mention anything of the sort since it risked Sett following them, something they didn't need or want right now or ever in their lives.

"Knivey, not the best time for this." The assassin sounded impatient, wanting to get out of here before they were spotted, as some of the bystanders were starting to wonder what was happening, her ears even catching gossip about last night.

"It is the only time for this. I made a promise to a fellow Ionian and I intend to keep it." Irelia didn't break her gaze off of Sett, who was getting more and more irritated by the second.

"Listen to the shorty, Knife bi- *ahem* Knife woman. The sooner we're done here, the sooner I get you all out of my hair. As for your promise, we'll just say you kept it and I was ready to… ugh… 'redeem' myself. How's that?" He tried playing his cards as best he could, but the low hand he had against her only spurred Irelia further.

"I let you go and you'll just come after my friends, won't you? You said so yourself. You have your own interests in being here. Well, I don't. I made a promise to your mother and I aim to fulfill it, whether you like it or not. If we're getting rid of you, I need to make sure it's for a good reason and won't come back to bite us." She paid more attention than she let on, it seemed. Sett wanted to stay under her nose for as long as possible, but his stench- scent was pungent for someone like her not to notice it. Maybe it was his fault, not managing his rep enough, but he had more important things on his mind right now… or rather, a more important person than the blade bitch in front of him.

"You're asking for a guarantee? Are you for real? If that's the case, then what guarantee do I have you won't come after me anyway?" He fired back.

"Because if you're sincere, I won't have a reason to." She took a step forward, her crest still composed but slowly starting to separate, just enough for the blades to become visible to the keen eye.

"Will you provide that reason… or do we have to do this the hard way?" She looked him dead in the eye, conveying that she was not backing down. The half-beast growled in return, part of him frustrated at this honor-bound woman barring his path and part itching to punch her in the face for it. He hated people like, self-righteous and stuck to the ground while professing a higher path, not knowing the way beneath them cracked under every step they took, as fragile as their own egos. His fists balled, a threat everyone noticed and immediately put their guard up.

"Thunder, say something, will you? Make her stop. She'll listen to you." Akali whispered to Garen rather forcefully, who stood there unsure of what to do, much less say.

"What do I say, exactly? That she should stand down for our sake? You know how she feels, Akali. You're her people, too. And me? I'm just a bystander caught up in all this and she trying to help- no, _promised_ to help even though she didn't need to. No matter what we say, we'd just be complicating things for her and for ourselves. Besides, you haven't seen what that man-beast can do when taken over by his whims. In fact, I say we let it play out and be prepared to defend her if he proves too much for her to handle alone." Garen's hand slowly went for his sword, ready to provide support for Irelia.

"Bah… The one time I needed you to say something 'Smart' smart and not 'You' smart…" Akali silently reached for her backpack, grabbing a smoke bomb.

"Even before a potential skirmish, you find time to snark at me." He managed to hide the happiness up until the end of that sentence, a tone Akali easily caught on to.

"Yeah, you love that about me." Her smile was obscured by the mask, but Garen saw its glimpses nonetheless.

"No I don't, actually."

"Liar."

"Believe what you will." Both of them prepped as silently as they could. The members of the group, however, were not so keen to start a row in the middle of the day with so many people around, not to mention risk drawing the attention of their enemies.

"First it's not the time, now it is… Make up your mind, squirt." Yasuo sighed his frustrations out, reaching for his newly acquired bottle instead of his sword.

"People, please. Can we not get into an argument after opening our mouths for ten seconds, at least? The residents are around us, we might cause a scene at best or hurt somebody at worst." Nami started her usual exasperation routine with the group, unsure if they were listening to her.

"Nami's right. We shouldn't attract attention or we might get ousted. We can all agree on that, right?" Ahri was, at least, shooting a worried look over to the Marai who returned the favor with her own, both of them turning to the unfolding scene in the riverbed which slowly carried over to the group. Garen was the first to react, however, walking next to Irelia and getting Sett's attention. He wasn't sure if it was a good move doing the latter, but he had to try something to diffuse that walking time bomb of a hybrid.

"What's he doing?" Yasuo asked.

"Garen things, probably." Akali intelligently deduced.

"I'm aware of that, but why?"

"Irelia's starting a fight again and he's once again caught in the middle of it. Why do you think?" As much as she respected the Blade Dancer, her head was still nowhere to be found when it was needed the most. Or maybe that gasbag on her head really was her head and this is what it was filled with; bad ideas that show themselves at even worse times. Sometimes she wondered if her zeal would be the death of her. Sure it propelled her forward, but that speed was nothing if one didn't look where they were going. Others around her were almost instinctively drawn to her leadership; she was definitely a born leader and, with time and experience, would a capable one as well. The problem was that at her core, she _really_ didn't want to be one. These problems are what usually drove a rift between her and those following her, her wanting to settle down and continue dancing and others needing her to lead to a better future. Lately, though, her head has been cooler, as if it suddenly gained a new perspective on leadership. She wondered what it was most of the days she was in her group, unable to pinpoint the exact origin of it.

When she lowered her crest slightly after sensing Garen approaching her side, though, that mystery was suddenly solved. The Rogue Assassin connected the dots, all of them leading to the crucial one on top; two leaders were better than one, especially if those leaders happened to have similarities they could work together off of almost marvelously while filling out each other's gaps of knowledge simultaneously and with minimal effort from both sides due to how they tried putting themselves in the other's shoes. Akali pinpointed another missing dot, albeit an unneeded one when Irelia's look inquired whether or not Garen was with her on this, him wearing an expression and a light in his eyes that should a fight start, he had her back no matter what.

'Huh… maybe it wasn't like that after all…' Akali thought, perhaps misjudging their relationship. Right before she confirmed that chain of thought, however, Irelia flashed one of the sweetest smiles Akali had ever seen on her face. She rarely gave those out to anybody, except for those that needed them desperately. This time, though, it was on her own volition, something Akali suspected Irelia wasn't even conscious of. Garen returning it with gusto before both of them turned to the common threat for the moment was the defining point of Akali's returned skepticism.

'Or maybe it is… but they both don't know it?'

It didn't matter right now; they had a situation to deal with.

"So, what's gonna go down, people? Hurry it up with the deciding, my drink's getting warm." Yasuo opened his bottle and took a sip, although his sword hand was still on its hilt.

"That's up to him." Irelia pointed to Sett, who cracked his knuckles, his mind on his mother and her reaction if she found out that he thought of even laying a hand on an Ionian war hero. His anger at her bossiness, however, screamed at him to just charge straight and smash her teeth in, preferably down her throat so she choked on them.

"Nah, I don't think so. I was just minding my own business, trying to do my part for the day and get you all out of my ass crack, but then you had to get all uppity, bossy and generally bitchy. If anything, you're the one who _quite literally_ started this." Sett stood his ground, gritting out the last part.

"My apologies, you're right. Still, I'm not moving until you make a decision; either you prove yourself worthy of redemption or I haul you in to Tuula myself. What's it gonna be?" She wouldn't budge. The others were starting to get antsy, Ahri in particular preparing her magic, although she wasn't sure who to use it on. Sett's rage overpowered his other emotions, making charming him into submission impossible. If she tried to defend him, however, she risked the wrath of Ionia's most famous hero, not to mention those that followed her. Next to the fox, Nami just breathed a sigh of resignation, almost utterly fed up with the group's infighting due to their personal beliefs, but nonetheless readying her magic to heal the, in her own opinion, completely unnecessary damage they would do to each other. Yasuo put his bottle away for safekeeping and gripped his sword's hilt a little tighter, the wind gradually coalescing around him.

The tension was mounting as more movement began ceasing, all of the seven prepared for a fight.

"One more question." Sett cut through it, grabbing as much attention as he could before the fog of anger gathered around them.

"What is it?" Irelia made it clear she only had patience for one.

"What's your suggestion of me proving my worth of redemption to you?" He had hoped it would stall her or maybe even diffuse the situation. After all, she really hadn't said anything all this time about a method. Irelia, however, was prepared for this as well.

"Simple. You come with us, do what I tell you and leave your mother be for the time being." The group thought they were all reasonable words considering the situation… until their leader spoke the last eight ones. The panic and reprimand didn't even have a chance to set in before the hybrid reacted.

"SCREW YOU!" At that roar, the half-beast slammed the river, breaking through the current and parting the stream in two, cracking the stone beneath. The others were on full combat alert, Yasuo drawing his sword and readying his wind barrier, Akali aiming a kunai at the half-beast's knee, Nami preparing her healing spells in panic, Ahri standing still and waiting on whoever charged in first in order to charm them and hopefully stop the inevitable fight. In the canal, Irelia's crest split violently, all of the blades aimed at the beast-man. Beside the Blade Dancer, Garen drew his sword and took his combat stance. From all around them, people were scurrying away, many of them recognizing the ones who were present and caused yesterday's fiasco.

"You wanna insult me, I can take it. You're not that special in that regard. You wanna fight me five on one? Puh-_leaze_! I've taken on more, better than you and walked away without a scratch." He was blowing hot air with the last one, but his temper got the better of him.

"But don't you ever… _**EVER**_… bring my momma into you goddamn self-righteous conundrums or your arguments about some dumb shit like right or wrong! I've had enough of your type to last a lifetime without you bothering us, telling us to fight for you and then turn your backs on us just because I was born half-human! I'm not gonna let you near her **EVER AGAIN!**" Sett smashed the wall behind him, cracking the stones and almost collapsing the causeway behind him, it barely holding thanks to the steel support circles welded onto it. The others recoiled at his strength, only Irelia and Garen standing unflinching as they have dealt with far bigger foes than him.

"Then you clearly don't know me, despite my reputation. I wonder why." She knew his type, those that couldn't differentiate pain from help, predictably lumping her in with those that did them harm in the past. She furrowed her brow in defiance, however, for she had something for worthier she believed in than the hybrid's misplaced blame.

"But you're forgetting one simple fact, my fellow Ionian." She knew it would get under his skin, but she decided on continuing onward, hoping the next detail would snap him out of it.

"It was your own mother that asked me to do this. Why was that?"

It gave him pause, cooling his head a bit. He looked in though, though his combat stance didn't change. Unknown thoughts swam through his mind; if his mother believed in Irelia Xan, should he as well? Was it her naiveté that rendered her choice prudent or impulsive? Should he try and accept the deal, stepping down from his position or risk attacking the most powerful fighter in Ionia and _her_ friends to boot? What were the consequences of all of those choices? Before it could all settle, however, he took a glance at Irelia, her demeanor straight up pissing him off even more. No. Not to someone like her.

"You don't know her, either. You just want her to keep looking up to you, as if you're some sort of paragon. Save it, bitch. I'll bust my way outta here, even if I have to go through **all** of you." He didn't care anymore. While his mother's innocence held him back and she made some questionable decisions with it, he still wanted nothing more than to preserve it, seeing it as the last bit of decency left in Ionia. Or maybe he was too jaded, courtesy of both his father and the people that detested them. It didn't matter anymore; he was getting back to her, one way or another.

Movement ceased, breath bated, tension mounted and eyes wide open, the seven awaited movement from each other, none of them wanting to start a fight with the exception of Sett, who held out purely out of ascertaining who the best initial target was. He lowered his stance slightly, identifying the origin of his problems when he stood beside the blade bitch. The others followed suit, knowing he would inevitably initiate.

A multitude of horn sounds broke the tension, signaling the imminent arrival of the city guard, marked further by the mobilization of the city's troops away from the gate. The people that fled now parted ways for the guards and even some members of the Order to approach the river site where the party and the commotion they caused were located. From the central district, Kayn and Onoki, having finished questioning the locals and having picked up the trail, turned to the sounds of the horns.

"They found 'em!" Onoki almost squealed with excitement.

"That came from the near the gates. Why would they be there?" Kayn questioned as he once again shadow-melded into the walls as Onoki dashed off toward Kashuri's gates.

"One last breakthrough chance, frontal assault, hidden passageway… Who cares! Let's go carve us up some troublemakers!" She didn't spend anymore brainpower guessing, conserving it for the thoughts of what she would do to those bastards once they got their hands on them. That last part before she lost her grip on reason prompted a reaction form Kayn's own.

"Hidden passa- They must've reached it! Maybe it's at the river or the gate. We have to hurry!" Kayn spurred the Smoldering Blade even further as they rushed to the river site.

At the river, the rest of the group jumped down the canal, the approaching horde of warriors quickly circling them.

"So, you know that thing I said about us taking too long, causing a scene and being spotted?" Akali knew being a smartass wasn't exactly helping them deal with the situation, but having it on her chest was worse.

"Yeah. That happened. Congrats, morons!" She shot a rage-fueled glare at Irelia and Sett before turning to face their aggressors.

"Akali, _SO_ not the time! The grate's open, people. I say we make a break for it, get out of the city and run as far away from Kashuri as possible. Any objections?" Nami gripped her staff in defense, ready to throw out a bubble for cover. The Kashuri forces were beginning to close in, their weapons drawn and pointed toward the group.

"Yeah, I got one. Why don't we just fight through all of them?" Sett asked so casually that the others couldn't help but collectively groan out loud, even while surrounded by enemies that were outnumbering them and had them encircled.

"Rhetorical. Question. Settrigh!" Ahri took a page out of Akali's book, even choosing to take on Sett's mother's role for a moment, which took the half-beast by surprise. He didn't even have time to formulate a reply as the guards and Order warriors nocked their arrows and bolts, aiming both bow and crossbow at the group. At a bellowed command they let loose, almost blotting out the sun's light with the arrows while the bolts pierced the wind. Luckily for the group, they had an ally of the wind of their own; wasting no time, Yasuo swiped his katana in one swift motion in front of them, raising a huge and wide wall of current, the wooden flying piercing sticks being knocked to ground upon contact with it, some even completely breaking.

"Whoa!" Nami, having never seen it before, yelped in pleasant surprise of the Unforgiven's skill with his powers.

"Don't get comfy, kid. It can hold for about four more seconds. I am open to suggestions here; do we fight or do we run?" He glanced back at the group, Irelia in particular.

"Retaliation will just end with us in chains or dead. There too many of them for all of us and even if we manage to break through this group, you can bet there'll be more on the way." Irelia finished just as the wind wall dissipated, the guards nocking another volley.

"Time to move, then!" Garen grabbed Nami by the hand and dragged her through the tunnel. Behind him, Akali and Ahri wasted no time dashing through.

"We're running?! Oh, come on!" Sett was the only one to object, but Yasuo, with some magical help from his trusted breezy ally, pushed the hybrid through the tunnel. The guards loosed their volley, but before they could reach them, Irelia realigned her blades in a defensive formation around her and the entrance, deflecting all of them with ease. As soon as no more arrow and bolts flew at her, she turned to run, hoping that whoever followed them would not bring as many people.

"Well… we're in. Where to now?" Garen asked, refusing to let go of Nami's hand.

"I'll tell you where to go, Justice Boy. Make sure you follow my every command." Sett growled, not eager to run from a fight, but also not eager act as a guide.

"This isn't gonna lead into one of your traps, is it?" The knight was skeptical.

"Buddy, if I had traps laid out over this city, I wouldn't be here DRENCHED AND RUNNING-!" Sett let his temper get the better of him once more, something he had slowly been losing a grip on since yesterday. The man in front of him had some form of ability to bring out his inner rage, a fact the hybrid took note of and wanted to remedy. Before he could talk and think any further, though, he heard a whistle, followed by a sword on his shoulder.

"You being the boss is on hold for now, half-man. Why don't you try and make that vacation last? Taking a little time off from your troubles is good for the soul. Trust me, I know." Yasuo part counseled and part threatened, eliciting a growl from Sett.

"I really love how you don't realize I can just bash your heads in on the spot." His smugness made him vulnerable for the next part, however.

"And I love how you don't realize you're riding solo on that, Settrigh." Ahri sounded off from the back, making it clear she had enough of his pointless threats and needless bravado.

"Thanks, 'friend.' I'll keep this in mind for next time… If there even is one…" The hybrid wouldn't be deterred, but his temper cooled down a bit, clearing his mind for it to tell him that he was stuck here and it would be best for everyone if he just guided them out for now. He clutched the inside of his vest, feeling the picture of his mother. He clung to it at times like these, mostly to keep his mind on his goal but also to clean it of any unwanted obstructions. He finally cooled down, resigning himself to navigating the group through the waterway.

Outside the tunnel, Kashuri's security forces gathered, trying to get into the tunnel in order to map out the initial branching more clearly. From behind them, a pair of large footsteps approaching fast and thunderously grabbed their attention. Their captain had finally arrived no the scene with the First Apprentice of the Order right behind her.

"Report." Onoki wasted no time.

"The party escaped through the tunnels, ma'am. We've been trying to ascertain their position for some time, but the tunnels branch out in too many places. Progress has been slow." One of her men gave her the rundown, making her sigh out her frustrations.

"Dammit… I hate having my own city against me, or rather its infrastructure." She drew her blade, noticing the cracks in the stones at the entrance.

"What's all this?"

"The hybrid vastaya smashed it. It's what alerted us to their presence here, along with several bystanders." A wild look flashed on Onoki's face.

"Is it still stable?" She drew one of her katanas out, igniting it with the heat of the sun itself, it boiling the water under her as she lowered it to the ground.

"Onoki, no. We can't risk any further damage to the canal's infrastructure." Kayn started his current bout of reasoning with her.

"We'll pull our people out, don't worry. I'm crazy, not heartless." It honest to goodness scared him how easily she admitted that, but he had a more pressing matter right now.

"That's fine, but what about restoring it? In case you've forgotten, this river and the canals allowing it to flow inside the city are a necessary resource for both it and us. We need a massive supply of water to cool the forges, otherwise-"

"-They won't work. SHIT!" She slammed her katana back in its scabbard, spitting out in contempt. Before her rage could drive her further, she felt Kayn's on her shoulder.

"Worry not, my intrepid friend. I have a plan." He brandished Rhaast, letting her know silently that much bloodshed would be involved.

The grin was back on her face almost instantly.

* * *

The tunnel was strangely clean, the purity of the waters reflecting in its clearness and sparkling droplets from the sun shining through the cracks and bars of the tunnel. The rushing currents were almost crystal clear, revealing the stones underneath as well as the fish which the group tried to avoid. Garen held Nami's hand all throughout their hasty exodus their long walk, making sure the young Marai was safe. Although she didn't like being coddled, seeing as how she crossed half a world by herself, Nami couldn't quite object to it, even though she needed both her hands for focusing her magic through the staff. Maybe it was the fact he made the reasonable decision at the time… or maybe she just liked being brothered by him. She wasn't ready to admit it just yet, but she did see him as such, an older sibling looking out for her. It felt both overbearing and warm at the same time, a new feeling for her seeing as how she was an only child. Behind them, Sett lumbered with his head lowered, careful not to hit his head and maybe even cause a collapse. He might have overdone it with the slam beforehand. It didn't matter as long as a fight didn't start inside the corridor. Behind him, Yasuo kept and extra eye on the half-beast as he was prone to unpredictable outbursts, especially since his primary target regarding those was right in front of him. Akali and Ahri trailed the wind warrior silently, the fox keeping her tails above the water while the assassin scanned the tunnel for something. Behind all of them, Irelia kept watch both in front and behind, knowing that she was rather powerless to help should a fight in front break out seeing as how the cylindrical tunnel was not only wide for one and a half person, but she also had to go through three people to reach. Therefore she kept an extra eye on the back, hoping the distant sounds of the city guard meant they were losing them through this maze. She just hoped the half-beast would own up to his deal.

"How much farther, Sett? We've been walking for ten minutes already." Nami asked, still unable to discern where the currents were going to or coming from. Ever since they entered the tunnel, she felt strange magic in the waters, but couldn't quite grasp it. It seemed… alive, somehow, or at least was saturated with enough magic that it felt that way. Almost everything in this strange yet wondrous land was. It made her feel at liberty but also on guard, for strange and dangerous things could be brought to life by magic too, not just benevolence.

"Gimme a break, Nams. I said I'd get us there and I'll get us there." Sett just continued guiding Garen through the tunnel, his shoes now completely soaked. Although the water was down to their ankles now, he still didn't like the feeling.

"… 'Nams'?" She was a bit taken aback by the nickname.

"Yeah. Nams. Short, sweet, cute and lovable. Describes you perfectly, doesn't it?" Sett argued for it, feeling a need to for some alien purpose. The others all turned their attention to him, even Garen and Nami stopping to look at the hybrid.

"What? What'd I say now..." Sett was almost exasperated at their notions.

"… Did you just call Nami cute and lovable?" Akali asked what everyone was thinking. Sett thought for a moment, retracing his words. At the exact moment they reached his explanation about her nickname, his brain imploded, signaled by his reddening cheeks. At the time, he didn't even think about what they meant. He just… said what he felt.

"Well, I mean- I-I didn't imply anything by it- T-That is to say, I don't think she _isn't_ cute- IN A NORMAL- normal kind of way 'cute', not the… the, uh, 'other' kind- You know what I mean." The half-beast was actually stuttering, something no one here though was in the realm of probability, even with magical assistance. Garen rolled his eyes with a smile, something he only did with Luxanna, Akali and Irelia, Sett now being the newest addition to that group. Yasuo just barely resisted the temptation to grab the bottle for some cringe relief. Akali shook her head, disappointed she wasn't laying a hand on those abs anytime soon and amused at the hybrid being adorable. Ahri couldn't even suppress a single giggle, which soon turned into three, maybe four, depending on how many of them heard the last one done under her breath. Nami, the other center of it all, turned away, trying to control the rising blush on her face, even splashing some water on it for good measure. One person, however, wasn't amused, given that she was at back and her mind was on their goal.

"People, can we get a move on? We're still being chased." Irelia took on the role as voice of reason of the group, something she was used to doing with people like them.

"Fine, fine… Garen, turn left at the next intersection. After that, pass through the first and second side openings and go straight ahead until you see a blue circular support. Then, you let me take the lead, got it? Also, what crawled up Blade Bi- Girl's ass, anyway?" Sett gave out his directions to Garen before turning to ask anyone who would listen, the knight following them perfectly while letting that last comment slide.

"Knivey? Eh, don't worry about her, she's just acting tough. If she actually was, she wouldn't have gotten captured or better yet, would tell Garen how she _truly_ feels about him." Akali shrugged, earning a blade poke on her buttcheek from Irelia.

"Ow!"

"Zip! It!" The Blade Dancer was next in line for the red face, although this had a fair amount of anger in it alongside embarrassment.

"What did you say back there?" The central target of that last comment sounded off from the front, still focused on leading the group.

"Nothing, Garen! You just keep going! Don't mind us." Irelia was rather fast-worded in her response, a fact that flew over nobody's head except Garen's.

"Right, got it." He continued onward, feet creating resounding splashes until he reached a dark blue circular frame, unlike the other brownish ones they passed.

"Sett, we're here. What now?" Garen turned back, but he was pushed aside by the hybrid, Sett being extra careful around the Marai but not caring one bit if the Demacian got a few bruises.

"Hey, what's the big-"

"Shut it, Justice Boy. Let me do my thing. Now, where was that button…" Sett had only enough patience for one sentence, seeing as how they were finally at the end. One more push of a button and this would all be over, he and Ahri would go back to mom and go on with their lives. Who knew, maybe Ahri would even find what she was looking for. Maybe he would even help if he had the time. They didn't have the best relationship, but he chalked it up to being complete garbage when it came to friendship. She was patient with him, though. Maybe there was a grain of truth to her after all. Or maybe it was a whole bag of them. Shelving it for now, he searched for a loose nail in the frame, finding it right in the center right side.

"Ah, there we are." Sett pressed it and the left side of the wall moved backward, the stones shifting themselves magically to reveal a long tunnel with a light source at the end. Some of the water diverted into the newly revealed tunnel, although not enough to drench their ankles further, a fact Sett was grateful for.

"One passage out of Kashuri at your leisurely perusal." He introduced them to the secret way he and his people used to get supplies in Kashuri without being questioned by customs what they're for. No one was around the river at night and having ample time to study the guard routes beforehand, his people had no trouble setting up the arena… which was now destroyed thanks to Garen.

Sett balled his right hand, still unsure of whether or not he should take recompense for that. Business was business and somebody somewhere in his business would demand that money. His idea, sure, and he was responsible. But once his mother got a hold of one bad day in his life, Ahri and the others just jumped in and made a mess of it. Well, Ahri tried to make some things right, but lately it really felt like she was against him. Did he make her this or was she doing her own thing? A bit of both, maybe? He remembered he didn't really know her that well for one day of meeting and sharing a conversation and a drink. So why did what she said and would say impact so much on his choices all of a sudden?

Because she told the truth… as harsh as it was.

He looked to the Marai next to the knight, her face one of pure joy at their situation. She looked serene, almost too pretty. The hybrid found himself wanting to look at that face a little bit longer… maybe a lot. The golden suns she had in the place of eyes truly enraptured him, the half-beast swearing in his mind to never let the light leave them. Those pearly teeth of hers coupled with her full lips acted almost like catalysts for the light to shine through more clearly. Before he could get anymore poetic, she turned to him, floating dangerously and comfortably close.

"Thank you, Sett. We wouldn't have made it this far without you." She extended her hand, Sett almost afraid to accept it as to not accidentally hurt her. Still, gratitude was more than a courtesy, as his mother taught him, and thus should be acknowledged in any way possible. He raised his hand, ready to take hers as gently as he could…

"_Neither could __**we**_!"

Sett's heartbeat almost slowed time down, or rather it felt like it, but it was enough… Enough to see the man-shaped shadow appearing behind Nami with a scythe in its hand. Not stopping to take a breath, he extended his arm in a millisecond, grabbing the Marai by the arm and pulling her down, the scythe's blade missing her neck by a nail's length, embedding itself into the wall. As time sped up, Garen bent down just enough to draw his blade forward, thrusting it toward the shadow which simply phased into the wall along with its scythe. From the back, the group readied their weapons, magic in Ahri's case, and stood on alert, staring at the walls around them.

"It's Kayn!" Akali spoke, kunai gripped almost painfully, knowing that his magic almost intimately.

"Any idea where could he be?" Ahri asked, orb flared and ready to singe the shadow assassin should he show himself. The trick was finding out where from.

"Literally _anywhere_ around us. Eyes and ears open, people." Akali answered, senses forced open and tracking for any sudden motion. Although the tunnel was quite humid, sweat was still forming on everyone's brows, their focus too heightened to worry about it dripping across their skin. They had spread almost on instinct, the corridor being wide just enough for them to fight but tight enough for them not to help one another beneath a thrown kunai, a precise blade or a well-aimed spell. The weakness in that strategy was that the only three that could pull that off were only covering one another, the others being left to their own defenses. Nami was still a bit shaken, trying to recover as fast as possible while Sett tried to somehow position her in front of him where he could observe movements for her while covering her with his own back.

The air went still all of a sudden, the only sign of an atmosphere was the rushing water passing by their feet along with the small currents silently howling from the tunnel's openings. Humidity gave way to warmth, increasing the perspiration from their bodies. Despite the cold water beneath them, however, it only seemed to get stronger and hotter. A rushing wind was heard all of a sudden, increasing in sound and vicinity, as if rumbling toward them. Yasuo was the only who recognized it, having fought it before. His eyes wildly scanned the openings, trying to devise which direction it was coming from. Thankfully, his ears caught on long before his eyes did, telling him it was approaching from behind.

"You three! Down! NOW!" He bellowed at Irelia, Akali and Ahri, who were forced by their own reflexes to obey thanks to having been still and tense. As predicted, a fiery slicing wave approached the group at terrible speed, its only intent to singe them all to a crisp. Yasuo only had enough room for a short swipe, but it was all he needed. Without hesitation, he swung his sword, putting up a small wind wall, not enough to cover the tunnel but just enough to cut the fire slash. It left him open, however, a fact which Kayn took full advantage of, reappearing from the walls, Rhaast thirsty in his hand for sweet blood.

"**That one?!**"

"Yes…" It was hard to tell who was more murderous at that moment, both starved predators in need of prey.

He swung Rhaast with full force at Yasuo's back, hoping to draw a wound large enough to cripple him. His victory, however, would not come today. Irelia, having hastily undone her crest, flung her blades out toward Kayn's strike, which was stopped dead in its tracks by their timely intercept. Both Kayn and Rhaast growled out in frustration, their patience for games at an end.

"Onoki, now!" Kayn yelled out, creating an echo through the tunnel. Ready and on her cue, Kashuri's guard captain charged out from the end of the tunnel, a ball of flames followed by what seemed like a tidal wave of them. Her already frightening speed was increased tenfold when she saw the first target in her way; the Liberator herself, the one target she had always aimed for… since she was ten years old. At last, the moment of vengeance had come.

"THERE YOU ARE, IRELIAAAAAAAA!" A thundering roil barreling toward her, Irelia barely snapped out of the block, scrambling to her feet in a rush and planting them properly along with steeling her stance in order to intercept the incoming meteor. There was no room to dodge so she realigned her blades around her as much as she could; it couldn't really do anything against the magic portion of the attack, but she could stop the steel one. There was no more room for thought as Onoki was right on top and in an instant, rammed into her with the force of a falling star. The impact knocked Irelia right into Ahri, who couldn't stop her and thus was pushed back into Akali, who didn't manage to dodge properly on time. All of them crashed into Yasuo, who barely threw his sword down as there was little room and time to sheathe it properly and managed to just barely stop the group from crashing into Sett, who was on full alert for the shadow man. As predicted, Kayn used the distraction to get a swipe in on the most vulnerable targets, Irelia and Ahri, who took the brunt of the assault and thus needed more time to recover, aiming Rhaast at their necks. A clang put victory out of reach once again as Garen intercepted the blow with his sword, parrying the blow and thrusting at Kayn, who disappeared into the wall once again.

"Get up, bitch! We're not done yet." Onoki heated up her katana once again, scraping it across the stone wall and melting both it and the supports along the line it grazed. Irelia regained her composure, ready to fight for survival once more. The crest realigned into an offensive stance; no more running and blocking. She took a look at the woman that was her opponent, the behemoth not even struggling to fit in the tunnel. From the previous day's description she recognized her.

"… You're the captain of the guard." She spoke, getting Garen's attention as well.

"You're Onoki Saori." She readied her blades as Onoki readied hers.

"So you know my name. Good. At least what passes for courtesy is unneeded. Let's go." She wasted no time swinging at Irelia, carving the tunnel until the flaming katana was blocked by Irelia, who scarcely held the captain's sheer physical strength back. It reminded her of Garen when they sparred, putting a lot of weight behind the initial strike as to destabilize and demoralize an opponent. A decisive strike is what he referred it as. He also taught her how to weather such things, however. As Onoki put more weight behind the strike, Irelia bent down, letting it graze her blades and slicing the other side, making Onoki stagger as she couldn't stop her own weight from slashing the wall and getting her katana stuck. Her armpit was exposed as there was only a bodysuit on it for protection, making an easy target for one of Irelia's shards, who thrust one in without hesitation. It wasn't deep enough, however; the sheer sinew that Onoki had stopped the shard dead, eliciting a yelp from her, pain turning into anger as she let her katana go with her right arm and reverse gripped it with her left, releasing it and slashing at Irelia's neck, who managed to move her head out of the way, but not her left shoulder, which received a scorching cut for that trouble.

"That's for my mother." Onoki's rage almost visibly dripped from her mouth.

"I don't even know your mother." Irelia realigned her blades, taking a look back as to assess the situation; Kayn was emerging from the walls here and there, probing for weaknesses while the others kept on their toes and countered him at every turn. They needed to leave fast, but from the distance of the escape end of the tunnel, she thought she heard more voices.

'They might be preparing an ambush at the exit… or already have. We need a plan… but what kind?' Her blades returned to her, including the one embedded in Onoki's armpit, the captain's wound not even caring enough to register the pain, making her sear it shut with her sword.

"True, but you know what you ABANDONED!" Onoki bull-rushed the Blade Dancer, violently clashing once more, this time pressing the assault further with fire-fueled slices, Irelia parrying strong ones, dodging fast ones and blocking slow ones.

While the two leaders held each other off, the rest of the group was trying to home in on Kayn, who was nigh uncatchable due to his abilities.

"Irelia!" Nami noticed her fighting, but was held back by Garen.

"She can handle it, don't worry! We have our own problem, though. Can you use your magic to find this scoundrel?" Garen asked, hoping Nami could use the water to their advantage.

"I can try, but-"

"Then do it. Sett, give her some cover. The rest of you, keep on the defense until we get a shot." Garen took command, everyone following to the letter, even Sett, although that was more out of the specificity of the order, not that he would admit it. Thank the gods they were all distracted now to notice that fact. Wasting no time, Nami slammed the rear end of her staff into the water, expanding her magic through the moisture it caused. It was all around the tunnels, making it easy for her to spot the shadow… who realized this and went immediately for her throat, revealing himself from above with Rhaast swiping down like a pendulum. A drawn-in breath was all it took for Sett to get in front of her, catching the scythe with his own two hands, blood already dripping from his palms. He didn't mind, though; not only was he protecting Nams but things were also getting the way he wanted them to go since the start of this whole shitshow. Gripping the scythe's blade tighter, he tried wrenching the shadow assassin down, managing to yank him out of the ceiling and rematerializing him for a second, only for Kayn to dodge the massive fist aimed at his head by diving through the floor, Sett breaking the stones separating his fist from Kayn's skull. Before he could pull back, Kayn slithered through the floor up to Nami, swiping at her lower half.

"Get off me, jerkface!" She wasn't defenseless, much to his chagrin, as she swiped her staff at him, dousing him with magic and slowing him down. Once again, Kayn was forced back into the walls as Sett charged him, moving out of the way just before the hybrid slammed the wall apart. Each stone-breaking slam destabilized the tunnel, making it rumble, an unwanted feeling for all involved.

"Sett, watch the slams, will you?! I don't want my epitaph to read 'Buried alive by an idiot's actions'." Ahri warned the half-beast, who shrugged as he always did.

"Oh please. You'll just return as a zombie or a spirit to haunt me. Besides, I can dig us out just as easy as I can bury us." He spared a moment to retort as he returned to his hunt for the shadow warrior.

"Please. DON'T demonstrate!" Irelia sounded off from the other end, still locked in combat with Onoki as she began dodging, fire slashes, the swipes going through just barely intercepted by Ahri's own magic, orb piercing wave as she used her own wise vastayan might against the magic of a human's rage. Another fox fire orb was used to keep a swipe from Kayn's scythe away from her neck. Behind her Akali was throwing kunai left and right, looking like she was blind firing them. Only Ahri's eyes noticed the tiny magic seals hanging on the ends of the small knives.

"Akali, what are y-" She went to ask, but Akali put a hand over her mouth.

"Unwanted ears. Trust me. That's all." Just like, the assassin went on about her business. Ahri guessed she had some sort of plan and wanted to trust her, but people like her tended to be reckless. In this almost closed, tight space surrounded by increasingly unstable walls, a shadow man appearing and disappearing at will through the walls, a massive fire lady dueling with a willful war hero and a hybrid vastaya not helping all of that, Ahri hoped whatever Akali had planned didn't involve all of that culminating into something dangerous and insane.

"We can't hold him down, he's too slippery!" Garen fought off multiple hits from Kayn, having sustained a few scratches on his armor from getting in the scythe's way.

"I have an idea! Draw him out!" Nami yelled, prepping her magic. Sett took that a sign and started slamming the floor harder, destabilizing the tunnel further.

"SETT!" Irelia immediately knew who it was causing the mini earthquakes.

"What the shiiiieee-!" Onoki tried staying on her feet, but a large stone collapsed on top of her shoulder, followed by a few more on her head and back, half burying her and knocking her katanas off her hands.

"Dude, stoooooooppp!" Akali was struggling to stay on alive through the crumbling rocks, much less on her feet, forced to activate the hardening runes on her kunai early, a fact she bothered to tell no one about, figuring they'd understand given the present company they hosted.

"We're all gonna di~i~i~i~ieeeee!" Ahri almost started crying, curling up into an adorable fluff ball on the floor with the biggest eyes she could muster.

"I knew I should've taken two bottles this morning." Yasuo always found time to complain about his drink, even in the face of death. Especially in the face of death.

"Sett, I really don't think this is what she meant by a plaaaaAAAAA-!" Garen tried once more to reach out to whatever remaining sanity the half-beast had, realizing that tank was empty the moment Sett slammed one last gigantic piledriver into the stones, hoping this would finally draw out Kayn. When the dust settled and Ahri's whimpering stopped, all he heard was the running water… and a sinister laugh.

"Oh please, hybrid. That was all I needed to cut her neck." Kayn taunted him as he materialized from behind Nami, the Marai left unguarded by the half-beast in his moment of madness. Before Sett could grasp his own actions, his legs moved without him, running toward Nami, thinking of nothing but getting in between her and that scythe. Kayn's smile was so wide it showed almost all his teeth, a delighted chuckle escaping them for an instant. Akali's kunai was already out, but it would reach too late, a fact the assassin knew but still threw the knife anyway. Garen was right behind Sett, dashing toward whoever was first in reach, Kayn for his sword's point or Nami for his helping hand.

It all happened in a breath… which Nami counted on completely.

"Surprise."

Her smile and the thrown kunai caught Kayn off guard, Rhaast still mid swing for Nami's neck. All of a sudden, his world became watery and started turning around, making him disoriented. He took just enough control back to realize he'd been wrapped in some sort of bubble which lifted him off the ground, tearing him away from the stones which enabled him to maneuver so easily. He could barely breathe, much less move or fight, a feeling that didn't bring him comfort at all. Nami looked at Sett and Garen with a determined nod, the two juggernauts positioning directly beneath Kayn. With a shared glance of approval and fury at the shadow assassin, the knight and the half-beast punched the bubble, tearing two massive holes into it and grabbing Kayn by the neck. The bubble then popped, water plopping down on the floor, including a dropped scythe which landed with a resounding clang. Kayn was disarmed and suspended by the neck by two very, very, _**very**_ angry, freakishly strong and surprisingly protective warriors. They shared another glance, both of them turning to the shadow assassin.

"Leave us alone…" Garen started, tightening his grip around Kayn's neck, lifting him higher along with Sett.

"… and GO TO HELL!" Sett finished, both of them bringing Kayn down on the floor _hard_, completely cracking it and fully destabilizing the tunnel, causing a section of to drop down right before Onoki, sealing her on the other side and giving some much needed reprieve for the group. The rest of the tunnel was stable for now, with the water flowing peacefully now, allowing the travellers to catch their breaths, save for a KO-ed Kayn, who was out cold, the Darkin scythe almost forgotten by the others save Garen, who kicked it away.

"We're done here, right?" Ahri just wanted this day over with, shaking herself clean and dry. The answer to that question came in the form of a slam from the other side of the collapsed section.

"Oh, we are… but she isn't." Irelia helped Akali up, both them heading over to Yasuo to get him on his feet as well, the wind warrior already rising on his own, stretching out as much as he could.

"Damn, that girl's persistent… We'd better move." He sheathed his sword and headed over to Nami and the destructive duo.

"Surprised you two worked together." The wind warrior commented on the handy work Garen and Sett did, the juggernauts looking at him and then each other.

"We had a common goal." Garen admitted easily while Sett just turned to the side, a side which just happened to have Nami in it, total coincidence and nothing more.

"Thanks. Sorry I used you guys, but I couldn't just blurt out my plan with that scary dude trying to kill me." Nami apologized for not letting them know and worrying them. At the mention of Kayn, however, all of them turned to the knocked-out ninja, having no idea what to do with him. Another slam from the collapsed rubble told them to hurry it up, however. Akali took the liberty of scouting the tunnel ahead as the others gathered their bearings and Nami tended to their more serious wounds. It was long enough and cleared of any intersections, with a stairway leading out to a light-filled doorway, but what concerned her were the voices coming from the other side. Boots too heavy for an assassin or a common man, many of them, voices yelling over each other, weapons clanging… Kashuri's forces and the Order were waiting for them outside. She rushed back to the group, trying to formulate a plan along the way but nothing came up even as she reached them.

"What's the situation? That blockade's not gonna last much longer and I don't relish on fighting that beast of a woman again, much less risking another cave-in." Irelia asked, not keen on the idea of meeting Onoki in a one on one again in a closed space.

"Kashuri's guards are blocking the exit, possibly with Order warriors as well. They sounded numerous and well-armed." The assassin reported the situation, putting Irelia's and Garen's minds to work.

"So? Let's just fight our way through, all of us. Easy." Sett's brilliance shone once again, earning him a tap on the head from Nami's staff.

"If we fight, they're just gonna come after us with more and more people until we're captured or dead. We can't risk that. Any better ideas?" Nami asked. The others looked around, trying to find anything to use, an alternate route or a divine intervention of some unknown savior. The gods weren't kind to them today, however. Akali kept on thinking despite that, desperate for a good solution… and she found it in the form of an unconscious shadow warrior.

"We use him." Akali pointed to Kayn.

"What? How? They might just try to go through him." Yasuo took a sip from his bottle, suggesting a weakness in her plan.

"No. Shieda Kayn here is the First Apprentice of the Order, a position second only to the Master. They won't risk Zed's wrath by harming his star pupil." Akali shook her head and grabbed Kayn's body, carrying him over to Garen, who made sure to grab his arms properly with one hand and tie his feet with a cloth provided by Nami's skirt. As he sheathed his sword, he turned to Akali.

"I'm gonna need a lot of cover on this one, Akali. I can't use my sword because I need my other to cover his mouth should he decide we're more important than his own life and start yelling out orders to his devotees." He explained, the previous experience with Darius in Noxus making its mark of learning on him.

"You can count on us, Thunder. We got your back." She drew her kama and kunai, ready to fight once more. The others formed around him, Akali front of him, Yasuo, Ahri and Irelia behind him with Sett and Nami on his side. Although the tunnel was narrow, they still made it work. All they took was one last deep breath, each using it their own way; Yasuo sighed out in content, Garen used it to fuel his focus, Nami vented out the fear, Irelia honed her anger, Ahri strengthened her magic and Akali her devotion to the mission.

"Man, I'm never gonna get that fight…" Sett, of course, used it to complain.

All in all, they were ready for what came next.

* * *

The outside of the tunnel teemed with people, all of them armed and armored, lined up in a semicircle formation with their weapons pointed at the tunnel exit, the only thing currently coming out of it being the small water stream flowing back into the great river behind them. The prairie was calm, the running water cleaning the sides of the riverbed it flowed through, the iron bridges dotting its banks providing an idea of Kashuri's surroundings and what those that lived there did to it. Still, small plants and insects thrived here and there, some even under the iron beams of the bridges, showing that no matter what, life would always find a way to thrive, with all its wonders… and all its horrors.

"Is the exit secured?" One of the more distinct guards asked, a man in a golden-seamed armor, signaling his position of power.

"Yes, but we haven't heard of Kayn or the captain for some time. Quakes were heard from the tunnels, however. Should we investigate?" An acolyte asked with her kunai at the ready.

"No. Our orders were to hold position no matter what. We barely found this exit and if let any of them slip through, there's no telling what trouble they'll cause. Has there been any-" Before the guardsman could finish, footsteps were heard from inside the tunnel, putting the guards on alert and all of their weapons pointing at the exit.

"Steady, now. It could be the apprentice and the captain. Steady…" He called out, letting the steps approach. Before long, the owners of the steps revealed themselves, holding a squirming Kayn, who had just come about and was struggling to break free. His holder, the Demacian knight, made sure to present him to his allies and the situation they were all in _very_ clearly. His comrades then formed a circle around him, tight enough to cover him but also loose enough for the guards to see Kayn's status. Garen made double sure to clamp the Shadow Reaper's mouth shut, only muffles and breaths escaping through the smallest opening through his fingers.

"Our demand is simple; let us through and we'll let him go!" Garen made certain to be loud enough so even Kashuri's denizens back in the city could hear him. An exaggeration, the latter, but the ones present at the tunnels got the message loud and clear. They looked to the golden-armored guard, who nodded for them to break formation and create a path. Sett, being on point, motioned for Garen and the rest to move, dragging their captive along. Throughout the walk, everyone was on edge; the nocked arrows and loaded bolts afraid of being loosed by the guards in fear of hurting the First Apprentice, while the group hoped Sett wouldn't just start charging straight through in a fit of whim. It continued on for at least seven minutes of pure tension and slow walking until the group was at the end of the blockade, their captive growing utterly restless at this point.

"Relax, Kayn. You'll get to live another day to try again." Akali tried reassurance, knowing that the poor bastard only listened to Zed, a fact she pitied as he would never get to grow on his own. She really didn't have time to compare herself to him as they needed a way out, the prairie being the only thing standing between them and sweet freedom. Behind them, the Iron City still roared, its forges, traders and workers almost seeing them off and saying goodbye, the sun at its peak greeting them with its warmth and welcoming them under its rays. None of them were that glad to stay there, all of them looking forward to stepping on the road again… except one.

"So… what now? It's not like they're gonna let us even if we have him as a bargaining chip." Garen asked, seeing no viable options just yet, hoping his team did.

"Once I start charging, get clear." Sett whispered, the habit of him putting everyone on alert resurfacing once again.

"What?! Sett, have you lost what little brain matter you have left?" Ahri, as usual, was the first one to reprimand him.

"You can't take them all on." Akali tried reasoning as well, knowing it had a one in a thousand percent chance of working on him.

"I know, but-"

"They're just gonna overwhelm you and you'll end up dead." Yasuo joined in.

"That's not-"

"You're not going anywhere." Irelia once again stepped up to the hybrid, making him take that challenge.

"Or what, bitch?"

"Or your spirit will see your mother crying at your grave."

It managed to halt him and reactivate his mind, Sett still unable to admit seeing the point in that last one.

"Once we're all out of the prairie, we go our separate ways. You have my word on that." That one line from Irelia they did not expect, especially Garen and Sett.

"Well, didn't think you had it in-"

"Provided you promise to _never_ come within a mile radius of Garen." And just like that, she was back to her original ways, putting a hand on Garen's shoulder while glaring at Sett.

"People, if I might get this back on topic… We're still in a situation." Nami presided over reason for the time being as they were still in the crosshairs of the guards and the Order. It seemed they had plans of their own or maybe they got some message from Kayn's eyes and/or face. Whatever the case, both groups were about to make a move and only one was outnumbered. The seven had to think fast before they were turned into meat for the grinder or flattened like the metal debris from the gates… which gave a certain assassin one of her better escape ideas yet.

"Leave it to me." Akali got a wild look, prepping a few smoke bombs and grabbing Nami, the poor confused Marai letting herself get dragged along once more.

"Fishy, when I give the signal, make the biggest goddamn tidal wave you've ever made and aim it behind us." Akali signaled the group to move toward a bent iron hinge remain, a fallout from yesterday's explosion, along with several others not picked up by Kashuri's clean-up crews as they were too busy repairing the main gates to keep open for trade. As they climbed onto the loose platform, Akali stealthily dropped a few makeshift mini bombs through the upward-bent metal, the ball devices silently rolling beneath it. She kept dropping as many as she could without being noticed, having dropped the last one, by her calculation, before getting on the platform herself.

"What? Why?" Nami nevertheless gathered up her magic, preparing to unleash a tsunami behind them. Akali motioned for the group to get on top of the hinge, Garen and Irelia catching onto her plan after seeing the hinge's resemblance to a keel… or rather, a boat.

"Just trust me. Garen, can you-"

"Move up front with our guest of honor? I most certainly can." Garen moved to the edges of the hinge, almost parading Kayn in front of his allies. Nami's spell was fully ready, the Marai nodding to the Rogue Assassin that she was ready to unleash it. Garen nodded back, turning to their enemies and stringing Kayn along.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our time here is, tragically, over. But fear not, for we leave you all with an honorable parting gift. From Team Justice with love!" As he finished, he lifted Kayn, finally removing his hand from his mouth just enough for the shadow assassin to yell out in rage before being catapulted by Garen into his own troops, crashing violently onto them before they even had a chance to respond in any way. That was the signal for Nami's turn; with a heave, the Marai summoned the most massive tidal wave originating just behind the group. Causing the disarray they needed, Akali waited until the wave was right on top of them, the others in the group panicking over the approaching watery doom, preparing her magical seal which was tied to the bombs. As the wave was about to overtake them, she ignited the seal, burning it on the spot and detonating the bombs beneath, lifting the giant metal plate hinge and knocking the others off their feet. As it flew a few feet off the ground, the hinge was scooped up like a board, getting carried along with the tidal wave across the prairie, the group screaming their throats off, Garen clinging on the front edge for dear life, Irelia grabbing on him for the same, Ahri barely staying on her feet, Yasuo stabbing his sword in the metal and kneeling for balance. Sett, Nami and Akali only bellowed out of pure joy and excitement, having a blast on the makeshift surfboard while it carried them to the edges of the prairie, the occasional spirit along the way looking at them perplexingly before shrugging it off as another day of the unique human mixture of creativity and stupidity.

The wave finally began dying down, closing in on its destination before submerging into the earth, the large iron plate sliding to a halt with seven voices dying down on it. Garen still held the front end tight, making two handprint dents out of the sheer strength he used during his moment of consternation. Beside him, Irelia was trying to find her feet, slowly getting up and walking out of the iron hinge, both her legs thanking her for being on solid ground once more. She turned around, walking up to Garen and stopping right in front of his face before cupping it with both hands. It got his attention, her eyes calming him down considerably, the Blade Dancer making extra sure he was okay before removing her hands and letting him stand up. From the center of the hinge, Yasuo stood up slowly, pulling his sword out of the ground, checking it for dents and damage before sheathing it. Akali stretched out with a smile, glad to be out of Kashuri and doing it on the Nami Express Special, a term she coined just now. The young Marai breathed out, exhausted from keeping up the tidal wave going as long as it did. Still, she was glad they all managed to recover in this moment of tranquility.

"DO IT AGAIN!" No prizes for guessing who screamed that out loud at the top of his lungs, breaking everyone out of their deserved and desired peace.

"Do **NOT** do it again!" Ahri joined the club of trying reasoning on the half-beast.

"Nami, I appreciate the quick bailout, but do you mind giving us a hint beforehand?" Yasuo took out his bottle.

"Her idea!" The Marai was quick to point the finger at Akali, although she was justified in this particular case.

"Hey, I got us out. If I gave some sort of warning, the guards might've caught onto it. Gimme a damn break." Akali got out of the hinge as well, scouting out their surroundings; they were at the exact edge of the prairie, Kashuri's river flowing right into the forests ahead. A few animals and glowing lights emerged from the trees, eyeing the newcomers and their unique method of transport curiously.

"She's right. We're safe for the moment. I suggest we use it to get some cover from the inevitable search parties and shadowing they're gonna send after us. Does anyone know these forests?" Garen took charge of his team once again, walking in front of the group and observing their potential routes.

"I do. I've been here before." Ahri piped up, ready to guide her new acquaintances through the northern forests of Ionia.

"But before we go…" She turned to them all with an inquisitive look on her face.

"Where are we going?"

There was too much silence for a question as simple as that one. Everyone had their own goal to accomplish and now they had the head start to do so, but nobody knew where to go from here.

"My mission's complete, so I need to deliver the report of what we did here to the Eye of Twilight and Karma, meaning I'm headed west." Akali answered first, seeing no point in thinking about this; all of them were capable fighters, had honed survival skills, were more than used to how things worked in Ionia and most importantly had goals differing from hers.

"I need to find the Aspect of the Moon for the moonstone. I don't know which way I'll head, but I'll stick with you guys until I do." Nami reaffirmed her stay.

"I'm headed west as well. Heard some rumors around the Placidium about the Brotherhood mobilizing for something and I wanna check 'em out. Besides, I need to find out why they want me dead as well." Yasuo put his bottle away before heading a few steps westward, coming to a nearby bridge.

"Yasuo…" Irelia called out to him. Anyone else and he wouldn't even bat an eyelash, but for her, he stopped out of sheer respect.

"If you're gonna tell me we need to stay together or some crap, I'll tell you right n-"

"Take care of yourself." That simple honest interruption made him turn to look at her, her sincere smile conveying the feeling of friendship perfectly.

"… You too, daughter of Xan." He returned the gesture in kind.

"See you when we see you, old man." Akali was a little feistier, but no less warm.

"Here's hoping you reach my age, kid." He pointed back.

"I'll miss you, Yasuo." Nami waved with the most innocent smile on her face, her eyes conveying sadness at seeing him go.

"I'll miss you too, Nami." He turned to leave before hearing heavy footsteps, knowing who it was without turning. Still, he stopped, letting the knight approach before facing him.

"You know you don't have to go at it alone." Garen broke the ice with a cheesy friendship one-liner, something he was well aware of but couldn't help.

"Heh… Some things never dull… and then there's you." Yasuo shook his head in disbelief, smiling all the way. He looked the knight dead in the eye, extending his hand which Garen gladly took.

"Keep her safe, will you?" He knew who Yasuo was referring to.

"We'll keep _each other_ safe. That's a promise." He felt the need to correct him.

"Right. Well, no point in wasting time. You have a home to return to, yes?" Yasuo turned around, walking to the middle of the bridge.

"Good luck, Yasuo." Garen gave him a wave before returning to the group.

"To you as well. Everyone… may whatever gods you believe in keep you and may you find the end you want in life. Farewell." With that final goodbye, the Unforgiven left to pursue his own destiny. The group watched him leave until he completely disappeared into the western forests, turning to each other once he was gone.

"Well, now that that's done, what about you and Garen?" Akali asked Irelia, who though hard about that question. Where should she take him and what would they face along the way?

"We head further northeast, all the way up to Hirana." There had to be an answer among the monks or the spirits that conglomerated there.

"The monastery? That's one long shot. You sure about that?" Akali approached the decision with a fair amount of skepticism.

"I have to keep trying. I swore an oath on my family's name and honor to help him return to Demacia by any means acceptable." It was personal for her, that much Akali understood, but only now did she understand why.

"Still, there might be faster ways. What about coming with me back to Navori? We could go ask-"

"I'm not taking him to Darha unless I have no other choice."

"… Why? She's a good leader, a wise one. She might even ask Karma for help, seeing as how she's its host." Akali knew that although they were unstoppable in combat, Darha and Irelia didn't see eye to eye on many things regarding Ionia, its acceptance of foreigners and even the handling of internal affairs. Darha had tried on many an occasion to get through to her, but Irelia had developed a nasty habit even before meeting her of shutting everyone out when it came to political views, something she loathed with all her heart. She let her blades speak for her in that regard, not caring what kind of message that sent. This bode ill for their nation, as divided and broken, they were incredibly vulnerable and with the recent second string of attacks, Noxus would no doubt take full advantage of the situation and launch the dreaded second invasion full-scale.

Ionia needed them together, now more than ever.

"I know, but this is a matter I must solve alone. If our trip proves fruitless, you have my word that I will take him to Navori and to Darha, but until then-"

"You wanna go on your own, yeah I know." The assassin twirled her kunai, glancing over at their remaining members, Garen and Nami on one side and Ahri and Sett on the other, all of the talking to each other respectively. She held her eyes on Garen, the knight still engrossed happily in his conversation with the Marai, even laughing a few times about something. Despite his steely outer demeanor, he had a golden heart beating in his chest, with room for everyone that professed and proved themselves kindhearted to their fellow friends and just to their enemies.

A lot like Irelia was.

She returned to the Blade Dancer, her eyes signaling deep though yet again, eyeing her with a playful look. Irelia finished thinking, finally noticing Akali's impish look and immediately sensing disaster incoming.

"… What's that look for?" She asked tentatively, expecting something demonic from the assassin. What she got in return was a soft look.

"Knivey, be honest." Akali removed her mask, looking her dead in the eyes.

"How do you really feel about Garen?"

Irelia stopped. Not just moving or thinking, but completely stopped. Her crest stood still above her head, as still as its master. It wasn't a question that she had asked herself often or at all for that matter, always thinking the feelings between them, be they hurtful, prideful, fearful, relieving, joyful, helpful or happy, would always sort themselves out as they usually did. Hearing it from someone else, though… It drove her mind in a focused overdrive. How _did_ she feel about this Demacian, so far from home and yet so familiar to her? She started moving again, breathing in as a sign of life and taking a long look at the object of her own inner turmoil and serenity, studying him in detail on his current actions, the knight entertaining the Marai with both jokes and reassurances about her mission, Nami laughing heartily at the former and drawing strength from the latter. After a long sixty seconds, she finally turned back to Akali, thinking she had an answer of a sort.

"I care about him. A lot. Sounds weird, I know… but I do. He's not someone that just dismisses people and their troubles without understanding why, no matter who they are. If they need help, he's there to offer, no matter what predicament he's in. He's devoted to a kingdom that's far from perfect, but he still sees it as such, much like I view Ionia. We, well… we don't get along that seamlessly, actually. We argue, we pester one another and sometimes we get on each other's nerves. There's things he doesn't like about me and there are things I don't like about him. But… we don't keep that from each other. He lets me know right away if I'm doing something wrong and I let him know when he's being an idiot, which is quite often. The latter, I mean. The point is… we look after each other. It started in Noxus out of necessity, but it kinda stuck with us, I guess. I'm actually glad it did because I would've never met the kindred soul I feel so close to right now." Irelia spoke from the heart, having no reason not to. She didn't care if she would be made fun of because right now, what she felt had to come out in the open. She took a breath, continuing onward to conclude her speech.

"I would do anything to help him get home because not only would he do the same for me but also… because I know how strongly he feels about it and why he does so. I know because… I feel the exact same way. I'm lucky to have him in my life… for however brief our moments together are or how short our future together is." Irelia Xan concluded, letting out the breath and every emotion she carried that was sparked by the Demacian known as Garen Crownguard. All of it out in the open left a lot of it for Akali to catch and throw back at her, something she began just now to become aware of. She cursed herself for saying so much out loud, even though it lifted so much off her chest. To Irelia's surprise, however, Akali just nodded in understanding.

"Huh… no retorts? No teases?" Irelia had to make sure it was really Akali in front of her and not some illusion of a mischievous spirit.

"Nah, I'm done with those. No point after that grand confession." Akali put her mask back on, eager to get the journey underway, although not before accomplishing one last task.

"I have to ask, though…" She looked Irelia in the eyes one more time.

"What is it?"

"Is that all there is to it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing deeper, Irelia? Nothing more… personal?"

Once again, the Blade Dancer had nothing but a deep thought… which slowly turned into a strange, soothing and serene look aimed toward the Demacian knight, sprinkled ever so lightly with a mere touch of longing.

"I…" She tried speaking, but her mind couldn't formulate the words properly. After a few seconds of composure regaining, she uttered only what she felt at the time.

"I don't know."

Akali saw the truth and confusion in her eyes, knowing she spoke the truth. In a rare moment of friendship, she put her hand on Irelia's shoulder in reassurance.

"Don't take too long finding out, alright?"

"I'll try not to."

It was enough of an answer for both of them.

Satisfied with the talk, both women returned to the matter at hand; where would they go next and how would they get there?

"People, if we're done ignoring each other, I have an idea. It's a 'surprise' kind of idea, but you have to choose whether or not you want to go along with it." Ahri sounded off, getting everyone's attention.

"What're you on about, Foxy?" Sett was impatient to get this show on the road as well, prompting a raised hand in stopping from Ahri.

"Three days walk directly north of here, there's a hidden village protected by the trees and the denizens of the forests. I found it on my journeys, thinking it was another pit stop. What I found, however, is gonna blow your minds. Oh, and it'll also help you get to wherever you need to go much, _much_ faster. What do you say? Ready to let me be your humble guide?" Ahri bowed gracefully, awaiting their response. The others looked at each other, the four original members sharing questioning looks while Sett raised his eyebrow with the same insinuation.

"What do we get out of it if we bite?"

"You get to see your mom faster."

"Can't say 'no' to that…" Sett was hooked almost instantly, making the others groan at his predictability.

"And you get to get away from them." Ahri pointed at the group, who honestly didn't mind the insinuation; Sett was by no means a team player, only being here because he got strong-armed by Irelia… which suddenly reminded everyone, himself included, about why he was there in the first place.

"Only if Garen pays me back what he owes me; a goddamn arena." Sett stepped forward, ready to claim what he was owed either in coin or a beating.

"I'll let you go if you overlook the debt." Irelia suddenly moved in between Garen and Sett, trying to negotiate a better deal this time around.

"No can do. Your boyfriend over there was part of my arena for however short it was. As such, it's his problem. And believe me, missy, I will collect-"

"I'll make this as clear as possible, Settrigh. Clear the debt and never bother Garen again… or I let your mother know how far gone you are, spill the beans on everything you've ever done, including today and then and **only** then, do I get to haul your crime boss ass to Tuula. Pick one or the other. Either way, when Ahri leads us to where we need to go and we part ways…" She leaned a little closer to the hybrid, giving him a full view of her split crest and its sharpened blades.

"… You get a head start. I suggest you use it." And it was no idle threat; she would hunt him down if he stepped with so much as toe over the line she drew. All Sett could do was respect the chance he'd been given. That and spit in utter contempt.

"Why does everyone use my own wonderful mom against me? What, were yours unable to see past your ugly faces? Can't say I blame 'em…" He eyed Ahri and Irelia in particular, the two biggest offenders in that regard. Unfortunately for him, he drew the ire of another, one he didn't want to upset in any way.

"You know, with the exorbitant amount of complaining you do and the way you act around people, I can see why she felt so desperate to call upon the help of a war hero just to get you to even talk to people." With just one simple cutting truthful sentence, Nami reduced the proud half-beast to a stuttering mess, unable to find even one cohesive sound of retort. He eventually recovered enough brain matter to formulate one.

"Oh, come on, Nams. Not you too… What'd I do to you, anyway?"

"Nothing, but I don't want you to act like a jackass. What's so difficult about being friendly to people for you, anyway?"

What _was_ difficult about that for him? Was it the profession, the regulars he talked to while in his business or the way he did it? Was it the past pains, reminding him that no matter what, he'll never belong to either human or vastaya?

"If it's so difficult, then how come you're talking to Ahri?" Nami continued, hoping to draw out something that resembled a reasonable answer from the hybrid.

"I was forced to, in a way."

"You're not now, though, are you?"

"No… but I still think talking to her about certain things is useful."

"Fair enough, but then why are you talking to _me_?"

"… Because you remind me of my mom." He looked aside, unable to meet her eyes for some reason.

And that stumped the young Marai, the others responding in the same way they did when he gave her the nickname, Irelia rolling her eyes in indifference instead of providing a comment.

"Oh… I… I see. *ahem* Well, thank you. I, uh… Maybe we should get under way. We're burning daylight." Nami's light blush returned, the Marai getting better at keeping it under wraps this time around and trying to change the subject. Akali sheathed her weapons, taking Nami's idea to mind.

"She's right. We got a lotta ground to cover, people, wherever we're going. I'll take this ride with you all until we get there, but after that, I'm gone." She felt a hand on her shoulder at that moment.

"You sure about this? We'll be fine without-" Before Irelia could even finish the sentence, Akali took her hand, shifting into a handshake.

"I'm not leaving my friends unless they tell me." Even through the mask, her smile could be seen. Irelia could do nothing but return the gesture the same way.

"Yeah, you'll miss us."

"I never miss."

Ahri then took charge, dashing in front of the group and facing the forest.

"Come on, then. We got a long road ahead. Follow and don't stray too far."

With that final command, the group followed their temporary leader into the vast northern forests of Ionia, the spirits, trees and animals curiously following their journeys. The roads they walked intersected many times over, often in violent and angry ways, but most of the others were understanding and respectful, able to see past the shields they put around. Ionia was a land of freedom and solidarity, but that didn't mean people didn't need a helping hand every now and then. The winds sped them up as much as they could while the trees parted ways for them here and there. Throughout the journey, things were relatively peaceful among them.

They savored it while it lasted, for they knew that those moments were very short lived on Runeterra.

* * *

The cleanup itself of the tunnels was a mess, Onoki having done more damage trying to bust through than Sett did when they fought. She managed it right before finding out the fugitives escaped the prairie. The crew then gained another collapse to clean up thanks to her slamming a weakened support with all her might, storming off while ranting with excess profanities. As she wandered near the site of the battle, she noticed Kayn's scythe dropped on the ground, as if forgotten by everything, including history.

It was strangely tempting, wanting to pick up and see if she could wield it. From the moment she saw Kayn and this scythe, she felt some strange power emanating from it, seductive and corruptive. Once the apprentice explained what it was, her thoughts of him being an idiot were confirmed beyond any doubt. She always wondered why he would willingly resign himself to such a fate. And yet, after all that wisdom and learning here she was, wanting to grip the scythe. The only thing that made her resist it completely was the thought that she would end up like him, which she detested beyond even what she'd become after nurturing that hatred in her heart. Still, baby would want his bottle, so she went back to pick a wrapping cloth and a rope, carefully sliding the cloth around the staff while tying it up with the rope. After a few moments of work, Onoki began dragging the scythe out, the grinding of the blade leaving a noticeable carved line in the stones, as if hungering for something or at least, satisfying said hunger however it could. She dragged it out into the light, the people outside giving her and the scythe a lot of space as she scanned the crowds of guards and Order acolytes, spotting a ranting ninja with his long braid half undone while the others around him tried in vain to calm him down.

"I want everyone we have available searching for them! This incompetence is beyond unprecedented!" He wasn't his usual forgiving self, having suffered yet another defeat.

"Your incompetence or your ego?" Onoki got everyone's attention, including the one who she wanted it from.

"Your timing, as always, is truly impeccable, Onoki." His sarcasm practically fumed out of his mouth like a dragon's breath.

"Save it, Edgelord. You dropped something back there." At her words, she dragged Rhaast out in front, making everyone but Kayn back off in fear. Kayn's left arm and side began twitching, as if wanting back what was theirs. He flashed her a strange look, however, one that spoke that she took too long bringing it to him and thanked her profusely.

"Thanks, Onoki." He settled somewhat, or at least tried to act nice. Taking Rhaast in his hands once more, he felt the Darkin surge through his being, his mind especially.

"**Well, that wasn't bad… for you, anyway. You even got a few hits in. Thanks for that.**" Rhaast was bloodthirsty and destructive but still gave credit where it was due.

"I'm glad _someone_ got something out of that debacle." Kayn was still frustrated at his lack of progress. Although they ambushed them perfectly, the fugitives still came out on top with just chaotic impulse, minimal coordination and plain blind luck. It aggravated him to no end.

"**Oh, spare me. The way you are now, that was just about the best I could expect from you. Well done and I mean that.**" Rhaast was perfectly content to let Kayn have this victory, knowing the ninja needed a pick-me-up… which would serve to make him even more vulnerable in the long run. He had gotten quite a bit of strong blood out of that last fight, feeling his old power in his being for the briefest of moments. Still, it wasn't enough. It was never enough…

"You praise means to me the same as an ant does to a shoe. Now be silent." Kayn took control once more, composing himself and staring out northward.

"We need to find them and fast. I'll mobilize our forces, call on some of our more prominent trackers. Onoki, you need to get-" Before he could finish, he felt the behemoth behind him, although there was no malice behind the feeling. Instead, she…

There was no way to tell if what was happening was real or not, so Kayn had no reaction to it but silent and calm surprise.

Onoki started rebraiding his hair. Kayn was able to only stand in silence as she did her work, other members of the Order and the guard around them returning to work hastily. He felt the knots tied perfectly, as if she was a master at this.

"Done." She flipped in around to his front, as if wanting to ask whether or not she did a good job of it.

"… Thank you. It's… you're actually pretty good at this. It's a lot smoother and tighter than before." He inspected his hair, feeling the braids blending on each other flawlessly before flinging it back.

"The last thing my mother ever did for me… before she went on her trip to Wuju."

There was a sudden loss of words and tension in the atmosphere around them, both of them unsure what to say or think. Onoki was wondering why she told him that or why even do that one simple favor for him. Kayn was trying to find the words for her, even after the rocky relationship they still had.

"Ever since then, I've had my pigtails. I think… it's because I don't want to remember her by braiding my hair. It would just make the pain able to be felt again." She confessed, still unsure as to why. Kayn had even more burden to think about how to lift off her with that sentence, not giving up on doing so no matter what. He had been… compromised earlier this hour, something she treated rather easily. He felt a debt needed to be repaid in that regard. His frustrations grew when he found nothing resembling comfort in the remains of his humanity, only pain and a sense of emptiness. Having no alternative to offer his ally- nay, his friend, he decided to just speak what he had left.

"We should all be so lucky to know our parents, even more so having memories of them." She was right about him; he was a blank slate, ready to be filled by whoever found him and raised him. Zed was kinder than all of them, but it was still his dark ink that drew marks on his soul. Even if he were to surpass him, that ink would still be there, not because he couldn't remove it but because he wouldn't know what to do with the white, erased slate. Where would he go in life should he do that? Who would follow him? Would he be alone, not even the Darkin he was now cursed with providing a resemblance of company?

"Or at least, people that care for us." She seemed so… emphatic when she said that, as if implying he was fortunate in that regard himself.

"Zed, he… Well, he's not the best mentor, but that's because he's not trying to be. One step at a time, that's how I learn. He knew that when he saw me and he applies it today. If he was just a mentor… I think I would've turned out differently." Kayn admitted, having no reason to build walls around someone who could simply punch through them or slice them with a searing blade.

"So you _do_ admit you can't really choose anything on your own." She chuckled, her point from this morning having been splendidly proven.

"For now… but I have a feeling that will change soon enough. And then? Then we decide what comes next. All of us." Kayn put Rhaast on his back, turning to the captain.

"Together. For Ionia and the future we have envisioned for her."

"Here's to that, then." Onoki was glad he at least knew where to start, although taking that step would be much more difficult. Her work here done, she turned to leave for her city, having a lot of it to do back there.

"You're going after them?" She asked, pretending not to know what his next move was.

"I am. Someone needs to keep tabs on them and make sure they don't interfere with our plans. We're too close to trip up now. Before you even ask, I don't need help. Besides, someone needs to make sure we're back on track with the cannons." Kayn stepped forward, having a lot of ground to cover to even start catching up to the fugitives. Onoki looked at his back one last time before regaining her senses of duty and burden.

"Edgelord?"

"Yes?"

"… Watch your back, buddy."

"You too, Onoki."

With that final honest farewell, the Shadow Reaper parted ways with Kashuri's guard captain, having learned a lot about himself during his time with her. In turn, Onoki Saori, daughter of Gao and Saya, went back to following her own path, its foundations laid out by her mother's death and her father's hatred yet still unsure of where it led. It didn't matter for she knew what it led through; the utter drive away of Noxus from her homeland… and Irelia Xan's head on a spike. Even though they were sheathed, her swords flared up with her anger, steaming through the scabbards, fueled further by her eagerness and urge to accomplish said goals by any means necessary.

This fight was over and they lost… but the war was only beginning.

* * *

The sun was once again at its zenith, the northern forests of Ionia teeming with wild magic. Enchanted flora and fauna thrived here, feeding endlessly by the chaotic energies of the natural magic around them. The trees were almost choking the skies, their leaves blocking out the sun save for a few pockets of sunlight, almost as if giving the skies a hole to see through, showing them than they had no monopoly on beauty and freedom. For their part, the skies didn't mind the competition, the blue endless canvas dotted with white fluffy cumulus and a golden ball of light bringing color to the ground below, nurturing the plants and animals along with the magic of the earth. The sounds of life permeated throughout the forest, leaves falling, insects harvesting and buzzing, a chameleon tiger hunting a fast and testing quail dog, the streams of the nearby river inviting all kinds of plants to make their homes near its banks. Birds rested their wings on the branches above, telling all kinds of tales from faraway lands while the spirits of the trees listened with great focus, waiting patiently for their turn to tell tales.

Through the sounds, smells and touches of life, a group of six came through it all, following a road that got narrower and narrower the more they trekked on it. Their leader, a nine-tailed fox vastaya, was merrily hopping along while the others followed normally, observing their surroundings, their surroundings observing them back. Four days passed since their parting from the Iron City and Yasuo, the six travellers following the hidden road that the fox had identified for them while still questioning where exactly the fox was leading them, the sole reply them getting being a sly 'You'll see'. From the group, the knight stepped up to the fox, matching her pace as he walked and she skipped.

"How many times have you passed through here, Ahri?" Garen asked, noting the ever-thickening forest. Despite the orange, blue and green leaves, the golden insects, colorful and strange birds, clear crystal water and green grass, the forest felt odd, for lack of a better and expanded description. In spite of her keeping quiet, Ahri hadn't actually led them astray, a fact that only Garen and Irelia seemed to notice, the knight from his years of experience and the dancer from her innate connection to her home and everything related to it.

"Twelve. I know these woods well, don't worry. In fact, we're almost there." Ahri turned to the group.

"People, we're coming up on our destination soon! You'll all get to go where you need to, faster, in style and with a great view as well. A few more minutes, my fellows. Be patient." The fox called out to her friends and then continued her role as their guide. The rest of the girls shared a look between each other while Sett, trailing in the back, just waved the fox off. Garen on the other hand was a little more inquisitive.

"Why have you come through here so many times? Has it been through different periods of time? I know you told us you're old but-" He was shushed by her finger on his mouth.

"First off, I said I was over a thousand years. That doesn't make me old!" She pouted in anger, turning her face for a brief moment as if telling him he was being ignored.

"Right, sorry." He gained a levied smile after that gesture, making Ahri turn again.

"And second, you got the latter right. I liked to explore on my own whenever I headed out during my years of isolation, seeing what changed and what didn't. I found that the more I explored, the less things changed but whenever I went out after a few hundred years, new things grew from the old ones, new faces replaced ancient ones, new villages and so on and so forth. I suppose you could say I liked the freshness of things, especially after prolonged periods of solitude." Ahri told him how she lived her life all those centuries past. Looking back, it was a rather simple life for simpler times. Nowadays, things were a little more exciting.

"Did you ever… interact with any of them?" He asked, still curious about her, a fact she was both wary of but also greatly appreciated. While she still couldn't quite read him properly, he was at least honest in his replies up to now whenever she asked him something, although questions about Ionia, Demacia and his adventures were easily answered. Still, they had to start somewhere.

"No. I was very careful to remain hidden, even asking the nearby spirits that saw me to not tell stories about me, only dismiss them as baseless rumors if asked. They were always very graceful and kind, even wishing they could help me more. I always politely declined. My burdens were my own and I couldn't let anyone else suffer for them." She concluded, slowing her skipping into a walk.

"What made you decide to change that?" There was no maliciousness or ulterior motive behind it. He was just genuinely curious.

"The world, Garen. It, well… accelerated its pace of change, for lack of a better word. I had to adapt and grow. Besides, it was getting a little lonely up in the mountains. Cold, too." She admitted, hoping the knight would understand.

"That's true. Even I can't keep up with the pace things are happening around Runeterra right now. Still, I try my best to survive." He also admitted, having been thrust into a vast, unknown and dangerous world with nothing but his wits and his strength. Well, that and a loyal friend, which soon turned into many from all around.

"You and all others. Still, the way you go about it is more commendable than the rest." She curled her tails in curiosity, eager to dissect his personality. His soul didn't reveal much about him, but after speaking with him, Ahri got the feeling he was raised to be guarded, which in turn created a subconscious shield around it. It was surprisingly effective, but it also weakened his ability to trust or create lasting bonds.

"Oh? And under what criteria am I judged, oh great and wise humble fox guide?" At least he wasn't as much of stick in the mud as Demacia was hyped up to be. Or maybe he used to be and he softened up? It didn't matter; the past served as a lesson and a few nostalgia trips, but never as a foundation for tomorrow. That's what today was for.

"You're hopeful, kind where it counts and reasonable under any circumstance. You're… What was that word, again… Prudent! That's it. You have a good head on your shoulders." Ahri began skipping ahead, happy that at least some loads of doubts were gone from her mind regarding the Demacian.

"Hmmm. Thanks." He said it loud enough for only Ahri to hear, still keeping pace with her. Vastaya were as strange as Ionia herself to him, which is what made him even more curious about their kind. They seemed a bit detached from the humans even though there were many similarities and not just on a physical level. Maybe it was because of those similarities that they fought, both claiming a stake on uniqueness of their emotions, their control over them and their common goals. It was too early to judge, however, as he still knew a lot less than he was comfortable with about their kind. He had spoken to Nami about many things regarding vastaya and their heritage, but she was as much in the dark as he was, having just stepped out into the world a year and a half ago. All she knew is they were intrinsically drawn to magic and couldn't survive without it. All else was a mystery to her, one she was willing to solve had she not been pressed for time. Time and hope was all they had left when all else failed.

And Garen was a firm believer in both.

Before he could ask, Ahri stopped, her ears perking up in curiosity. She raised a hand, stopping the group before taking a few steps forward. Between the trunks of the trees, she spotted a massive fog, encircling the area as if creating a wall.

"We're here! Come on, everyone." She dashed forward, eager to show them what she had found many years ago. The group picked up the pace, following the fox until they were at the edge of the fog.

"What the heck is this? Did someone's bong malfunction or something?" Sett asked, having had enough of mysteries for one day, that same thought prompting him to reach for the fog. His hand was suddenly slapped away by Ahri, taking him by surprise.

"Don't touch it! If you get lost in it without knowing the way or being guided, you're _never_ getting out and no one's ever gonna find you." She explained before bowing her head slightly in apology.

"Sorry, but you were so close to it-"

"Eh, it's fine. So, how do we get through?" The hybrid forgave her, not wanting to start a pointless fight with someone he considered a friend for a silly reason, a fact unable to escape his notice.

"You hold my hand and don't let go. I know my way through." Ahri held out her hand, looking at the others in awaiting approval. Akali was the first to step up, knowing exactly what kind of fog this was.

"It's an obscurity veil… just like the one around Weh'le. Unless it wants you in, you ain't getting in. If you know your way around, though…" She analyzed the fog from a short distance, placating the fox once she moved to get her away from it.

"Yeah, I can get us through, but you can't let go under _any_ circumstance, got that?"

"Can all of us go through at once?" Nami asked.

"Yes, but I will repeat it as many times as it takes. Don't. Let. Go." Ahri's tone was dead serious unlike her usual cheery and teasing self, giving ample time and consideration for the group to take her seriously. They looked to each other before turning to the fox.

"What are we waiting for, then? Let's get it going." Sett was the first to step up, extending his hand to Ahri, who gripped it tight. She was surprisingly strong for such a lithe girl, a trait Sett chalked up to her vastayan lineage. Behind him, Nami lined up, staff in her back and one hand poking his. Sett glanced back, turning away on the spot before extending his hand. He noticed Ahri's face, all joshing and rascally.

"Not a word, fox." He breathed it out, though in his case it was more like a fuming chimney. Nami, her eyebrow raised in question at Sett's actions and still unaware of the two's banter in front of her, simply took his hand in her own and gripped tight. Behind her, Akali lined up, kama sheathed and kunai secured in her backpack. Nami held out her hand for her, the assassin gripping it as tight as she could. Irelia came up next, her and Akali grabbing each other's hands tight. Seeing them lined up, ready to trust the fox and each other, Garen walked up last, holding Irelia's hand with precise strength.

"It'll be okay." There was no need to reassure him, but she did it anyway out of habit.

"I know. We're all together, after all." And thus, no further words were needed. He nodded to Irelia, who carried the gesture to Akali, giving it to Nami who confirmed it at Sett, the half-beast giving Ahri the go.

"Stay close… and walk with surety."

One by one, they disappeared into the veil, Ahri entering first, Sett following her tails through, Nami tentatively floating after him, Akali tailing the Marai, Irelia going after the assassin and the knight coming up from behind them all.

The fog was grey and dense, each traveller unable to see in front of them for even a few centimeters. Their footsteps were drowned out by sounds of low howling winds, barraging their ears constantly while they were traversing the veil. Pockets of white dust dotted the fog, giving false hope for travellers going through them, luring them to what they thought was freedom only to find out they were trapped here forever. Ahri ignored all of it, however, for the way had been shown to her a long time ago. It was the simplest trick, really; walk straight ahead, clear your mind and think of nothing else but where you want to be. If you didn't do all three at once, however, the veil would claim you as its own… forever. She hoped the others held hands, although something told her she needn't worry. As her mind cleared of doubt, she saw the clearing, the true light out of the fog. Pulling a little harder, she sped toward it, eager to reach the safety of the other side and show her friends one of Ionia's hidden wonders. She reached the edge of the veil, her free hand parting the tiny billows and emerging into a bright light, the others following suit. Sett held his feet, pulling Nami out of the cloud. Akali came in fourth, dragging Irelia behind her as the Blade Dancer held Garen's hand tautly.

"Everyone here?" Ahri checked.

"Yep." Sett replied.

"Here." Nami sounded off.

"Present." Akali confirmed.

"I'm alright." Irelia nodded.

"Last but not least." Garen stood proud of his small accomplishment.

"Good. Open your eyes, then." Ahri moved out of the way for the group to get a better look at their destination. Perhaps two were required, seeing as how what they saw first was beyond believable.

It was a large village, almost big enough to be called a town, but not quite being there. The buildings were intricately woven by the tree weavers, all of them shaped into fine forms where many people thrived and lived. Humans and vastaya of all kinds went about their lives, farming the nearby fields of rice and apple orchards, painted pictures of whatever caught their artistic eye, told stories to whoever would listen and prayed before makeshift shrines to their gods. Children and young adults ran around and through the village, eager to spend their youthful energy while they had it on whatever games caught their whims. The elderly rested and relaxed on their porches and windows, observing the ones that inherited all they had done, sometimes proud, other times disapproving but ultimately glad to still be part of their mortal lives. One of them noticed the travellers, Ahri in particular.

"Well, look who came to visit after all these years. I trust you've been well, Nine-Tailed Wanderer." An old woman wearing a cone hat and dressed in a traditional Ionian kimono greeted the vastaya with a bow.

"I have, honored elder. I hope you don't mind me bringing company." She moved out of the way for her to see the party she brought along.

"Oh my… So many visitors in one day. I do hope you'll stay for a while. We have a wonderful celebration planned to honor our own spirit guardians and gods." The elder bade her to join, but Ahri raised a hand in refusal.

"I apologize, elder, but we're pressed for time and commitment. We need their help." She lowered her head when speaking the middle part of her second sentence. The elder woman flashed a surprised look across her face before smiling in understanding.

"All you need do is ask them, Nine-Tailed Wanderer. I'm sure they will do their utmost to provide you with whatever you need." The woman bowed in farewell and made a path for Ahri and her group, the fox motioning them forward. They walked through the village, taking in all it had to offer them; clothes being embroidered complexly by Ionian tailors, a few of the finer silk ones catching Sett's eye. Dancing koi spirits swam through the air up to Nami, who twirled along with them for one spin, the spirits leaving the Marai happier than she was before. Irelia observed this untouched paradise, suddenly finding herself fighting the urge to stay here and dance forever by herself. She would be greatly appreciated given the reactions of the people in regards to her and her crest, although she assumed they had heard rumors about who she was. If she did, however, Noxus would just taint it like they did everything else and thus she elected not to. Not yet, at least. Garen and Akali, their senses, honed, could only wonder what those loud strange noises coming from the other side of the village were.

"What the heck is that?" Akali asked, perplexed by whether or not everyone else was hearing that.

"I hear it as well. What are those noises?" Garen confirmed she wasn't alone in the notice of the strange sounds, which were starting to resemble distant roars.

"Oh. You're hearing them already, eh? You'll see soon enough. I know you've probably had enough of that statement but trust me. The surprise is well worth it." Ahri made one last tease before leading them to the edge of the village, clearing the main street until all of could hear the noises, now turned into actual deep roars. Massive wind currents were accompanying them, along with the occasional wing flap, the edges of the flows reaching the travellers' feet. They began to feel high concentrations of magic, even Garen not being able to deny the feeling. Irelia was the first to recognize the noises, giving her further doubts about what their origin was. The group finally cleared the last building obstructing their view, their patience on its last legs.

Ahri made good on her promise.

The miniature valley before them was rife with giant stones and trees, all of them marked with magical sigils which pulsated with the force, making them seem alive. It was almost a perfect circle, the area looking as if it was supernaturally carved and built. But the greatest sight wasn't of the earth or the skies, but of life's most mysterious, intricate, powerful, savage and wonderful creation.

Their serpentine bodies coiled around their roosts, embracing the land that nurtured and gave birth to them. Their kin slithered through the great blue canvas like silk weaves pulled by master dancer's hands. Those of them blessed with size and wings soared to the greatest heights, touching the clouds above and the descending as if bringing their gliding cousins a gift from the heavens. Majestic roars filled the air around them, their unison composing a song which could not be understood by mere humans, vastaya or even spirit. The magic in them and around them danced to their mighty ballads, waking the ground and its flowers from its slumber. The group could only stand rooted to the place they last stepped to before they saw one of the most wonderful sight to ever grace their mortal eyes.

"Dr- Dr-…." Garen knew the words and knew of their kind form previous experiences, but still couldn't quite speak them for he had never seen them like this before.

"They're- Ahri, you-…. I… wow…" Nami was just as lost for words as he was, her undecided between thanking Ahri for this honor and marveling at them.

"Huh… didn't think they'd be this awesome…" Sett just admitted, having never seen one before, only hearing about them from rumors and his mother's tales.

"Yeah, I knew you guys would like it." Ahri's smugness overtook her for a moment, although it was well-deserved and she didn't take it further than that, letting her friends enjoy the experience of a lifetime.

"I mean, I've seen one before, but this many up close… and so varied and colorful…" Akali took her mask off, wanting to breathe in as much as she could of the magical air that they were saturating around the environment.

Irelia, however, said nothing. She merely retracted her crest and approached them slowly, her feet not her own anymore. She began reaching out slowly, wanting to feel everything about them, an unknown and unseen force beating inside her chest, telling this was one of the most wonderful parts of the beauty and hope of the homeland she was fighting for. The others noticed her almost trance-like state, but didn't stop her at all. As Irelia approached the circle where the winds were the most vibrant with magic, the grandiose creatures finally took note of her, all of them turning to face her. The closest leaned in, curious about this human that not only had no fear of them but also wanted to be closer to them. The magic ties and invisible strings of fate tied a tiny but noticeable knot between her and their own kind, just as it did with many other things she loved about Ionia. And the things she loved were quite numerous. This was only another knot, but it felt just as important as the others.

After all, Dragonkind was a mystery to all of Runeterra… and they only revealed their secrets to the worthiest of souls.

The flying serpent lizards stopped their songs and dances to look at this woman now slowly coming to from her trance, her face painted with surprise and wonder at what was before her. They gave her time; it bore no consequence to them, after all. One of them, the largest and oldest, leaned in closer until his jaws were a nudge away from her head, his body and tail encircling the entire roost. He took a whiff of her, smelling the ancient magic inside her and flowing through her veins crest.

"**Hhhrrrrrrrrr… Welcome, child of the First Lands. No doubt your road here has been long.**" His voice reverberated in their heads as he spoke, only Irelia not wincing from the sudden boom.

"It has, old one. My name is Irelia, last daughter of house Xan and defender of Ionia. You do me great honor of granting me the opportunity of speech with you and your kind." She was the most respectful she'd ever been, bowing deeply before the dragon. The old lizard simply breathed out a scoff.

"**Humans and their reverence. Har! Stand, last daughter of Xan. There is no need for a kindred soul to bow. Ionia knows you and thus, so do we.**" The dragon moved his head back, allowing the others of his kind to see her.

"Kindred soul?" The Blade Dancer was confused.

"**In more ways than one. But you must discover the meaning of that part for yourself.**" The old one looked to her comrades, studying them carefully.

"**Well? Don't stand there and gawk, humans and vastaya. Approach.**" He sounded impatient for he had no time for pointless fear. The others did as he said, not wanting to offend the beast. As they stood next to Irelia, he observed them carefully, gouging their traits in an instant.

"**A half-man that thinks he can belong to two worlds at once, a wanderer without a past seeking to find it as if it wants to be found, a young girl without the choice of being so, a shadow that seek to thrive in the light, a warrior that wants to shoulder a burden too great for one mortal… and a golden eagle that believes itself to be a diamond lion. My oh my, fate has brought us the most interesting travellers today.**" The dragon's kin gathered around them, nearly blotting out the sun with their size and waited patiently for the old one to finish.

"**Did you bring them here, Nine-Tails?**" One of the younger dragons asked, a female one with blue scales and a red feathery crown in place of hair, snaking around the older one before approaching Garen, the knight recoiling at the beast's closeness.

"**I like this one. He's strong.**" Without warning, the young dragoness coiled around him and dragged him to her back, Garen yelping in surprise as Irelia and Nami tried to grab him.

"Whoa, hey! Put me down! Please?!" Garen wasn't comfortable in the mere vicinity of a dragon, much less on the back of one. The dragoness simply laughed, or what passed for a laugh among that deep chuckle.

"**Oh come on! I'm holding you tight, human. You won't fall. The skies are wonderful today. Why not enjoy them with me?**" She made extra sure to secure Garen on top of her back, even moving him closer to her head so he could grab on to her feathers, which he did firmly.

"Oh, we will. It's the reason I brought them here, after all." Ahri stepped in front of the old dragon, taking a deep bow.

"**Wonderful to see you again after all these years, little Nine-Tails. I trust they've been kind to you?**" The old dragon exchanged pleasantries.

"As kind as they've been on you, revered one. We've come seeking your aid. Throughout my journey, these people have accompanied me. We've fought, together and each other, and have overcome many challenges. Our paths have crossed and we have traversed their perils together, but now, we must all part to pursue our own fate. Just as Ionia bound us together, now we follow the paths she has set for us. To that end, I humbly ask for your help, old one. Help us reach our goals. Carry us through the skies and to where we need to be." Ahri knelt on both knees, lowering her head as she made the request. The others took a moment to process the request before doing a double take simultaneously.

"… WHAT?!" They bellowed out.

"Wait, hang on. We get to… We get to ride… Oh… Hoo, boy, let me just- let me… Okay…" Akali bent down, clutching her knees as to have them give out due to the overheat frying her brain upon hearing about the potential situation they would be in for.

"Beyond astonishing…" It was Irelia could say and think.

"Waitwaitwaitwait- Wait! You would… actually do that? For us?" Nami had to make sure she didn't faint somewhere along the road and this wasn't a dream by tapping her head with her staff.

"**That depends on your desires and the paths you tread. Should I find you wanting, you will not touch the skies today. Should I find you worthy, we will gladly carry you to your destinies. What say you? Are you prepared to be judged by a dragon's eyes?**" The eldest spoke in a commanding tone, making the group stand on attention, even the self-centered half-beast. From the air, the young dragoness descended, with the knight on her back glad to be on solid ground.

"**Stand before me, mortals.**" The old dragon commanded, the party lining up almost perfectly. The dragon bent down, his eyes going through all of them first, discerning who they were beneath their façades and their ideals. Irelia Xan was the first; she was more than worthy, but she had been carrying a burden that she could no longer shoulder alone. Her eyes were open to that, but her strength was still lacking. To that end, she knew where to go, but she didn't have the means. His kind would be more than glad to provide them.

"**Irelia Xan. Step forward.**" He commanded, the Blade Dancer obeying and bowing.

"**Your soul is indomitable and nigh incorruptible, but your mind and body need to catch up to it. Despite your numerous victories, you have yet to hone your will to do what is necessary to defend Ionia. Still, your path in life is a good one, untraveled by many. You have earned our aid.**" The dragon bowed in return, prompting a nod of gratitude from Irelia, as well as her smile.

"Thank you, venerable one. I will not waste it." She promised, the dragon knowing that she would keep it no matter what.

"**Step forward, young Marai.**" The old one wasted no time summoning the next in line, Nami trying to follow Irelia's courtesies by bowing, almost tripping over her own fins when she bent awkwardly, but managing to keep her balance. The dragon wasted no time in looking into her golden eyes with his own emerald ones.

"**A part of your time has been taken from you, Tidecaller.**"

"How did you know I what I-"

"**Patience when speaking with elders, young one.**"

"Of course. Apologies."

"**Your duty has forced you to grow up and yet you remain kindhearted and focused despite your endured hardships. What you focus on, however, is not what your ultimate goal is. What you seek is not what you ultimately want. But fear not; should your desire to save others hold out, you will find what you need. Our help is yours.**" The dragon bowed, Nami nodding in return.

"Thank you so much, but before I accept, I need to know-"

"**In the mountains one week to the west of this village, there is a ruin untouched by the sun. It is there yet cannot be found. Only the night and the moon will show you the way to that which you seek. That is all I can say, for my eyes cannot see past the darkness. You must be brave.**" The dragon spoke cryptically, having already gouged what the Marai was seeking.

"What? Wait, how do you know what I am and what I'm seeking? I haven't-" Nami tried to reason, but the dragon simply breathed softly in her direction.

"**I told you already, young one. Your soul and your true self is what I see. Nothing is hidden from me once you are before me. Remember that.**" The dragon spoke, his massive tail prodding her toward one of his own, who awaited his command.

"**Step forward, little shadow. Let the light reveal you.**" The dragon summoned Akali, the assassin lowering her head in reverence.

"**Akali… why do you run from the shadow, Akali? Why does someone like you, not wanting to be with people, always find herself in the company of them? Why do you avoid lessons and prefer to learn on your own when those that teach you are always beside you? Why do you fight battles alone in order to protect those fighting alongside you?**" He patiently awaited an answer, piercing her doubts to find it but knowing that without the lesson of self-awareness of one's own faults, one could not know where to grow. Humans needed to gouge that for themselves; it was in their nature to resist being told what to do, even if it was good for them. Especially if it was good for them. The assassin took a few moments of deliberation before coming up with the best answer she had.

"I do it so I don't see my friends hurt. I need to be stronger for their sake. If I manage to fight, learn and win on my own, they won't need to worry about me. I… can't stand to see the people I care about hurt. So I do what I must, even if it keeps them at arm's length." She confessed why she worked alone; it really was better for everyone because once they grew strong and smart enough on their own, they wouldn't have to worry about themselves when protecting their closest. It worked pretty well so far for her… but times were changing.

"**A fair answer. Ionia, however, would disagree with you. We need to stand together… and you're part of her too, Akali. No matter how aloof you pretend to be.**" He breathed on her, ruffling her already messy hair and making her scowl in resentment like the young woman she was. Once she shook it back to its original messy state, the dragon bowed to her.

"**And we will aid in achieving that camaraderie.**" Though she struggled not to show it, Akali was moved by the dragon's generosity and the fact that noble creatures like them were willing to help a stubborn moron, by her own admission, like her.

"Thanks, oldie." Her feistiness would not be changed, though, no matter how noble those trying to help her were. The dragon almost chuckled under his breath, but withheld it due to the next ones being on the more complicated side. Garen and Sett stood side by side, awaiting the call of the ancient dragon, who studied both of them very carefully, his scowl bearing ill news for them, something the girls noticed and were immediately worried about.

"**Approach me, child of two worlds.**" It was Sett's turn, it seemed. He stood before the dragon, tall and unbowed, not even in reverence. He did admire the beast, though, as if it was a grand fighter. Judging by the scars on his scales, he had definitely seen action.

"Bow, you uncouth, disrespectful imbecile." Irelia hissed at him, prompting the middle finger from his right hand aimed at her. Her splitting crest gave way to a turn from the old one, calming her down.

"**Leave him be. He has a lot on his mind… something which I am aware of.**" He placated her, Irelia lowering her crest with a bow.

"**And now for you… Since your childhood, you have been standing at a forked road, both ways leading to two opposite desires that have broken your heart in two. Neither path leads to the other, as you so desperately hope. This fracture in your soul breaks your will, giving you pause in times of decision.**" The dragon drew out the pain he tried to hide, something Sett was very not okay with.

"I don't recall giving you permission to poke through my head, geezer." He was also rather vocal about it, unlike the others. The dragon was patient with him, as people in pain put up walls around them on instinct. His kin and the half-beast's companions, though, not so much.

"Mind your tongue, Settrigh." Ahri warned.

"He's trying to help you, idiot." Akali's desire was replaced with exasperation. It quickly burned out once she started comparing herself to him, just now realizing that this is probably how she acted when people offered to help her.

"**Do remember where you are, half-soul.**" One of the dragons threatened, baring his teeth at Sett.

"**Enough.**" The ancient dragon silenced them all with a single word, said so firmly that not even the wind spoke further until he did.

"**Innumerable pardons, child of two worlds. It is an old mind's habit to help younger ones, even though they need to grow on their own. You, however, cannot.**" The dragon leaned in closer to let the full weight of the truth fall on Sett.

"**You are incapable of deciding which path to take. Therefore, we cannot help you. I am truly sorry.**" And so the ancient dragon, in his infinite wisdom and perception, denied the half-beast. It garnered mixed reactions from his companions; Irelia was sympathetic, but no more than that. In her mind, he reaped what he sowed. Akali was feeling awkward having witnessed a rejection of help, a right one at that, but still felt sorry for him. Nami was surprised, but she wasn't sure how to feel about the decision given she didn't know the hybrid that well. Garen didn't know the turmoil the dragon saw in the half-beast so he reserved judgment as well. Ahri, on the other hand, felt a bit more combative.

"Honored One, please! I beg you to reconsider!" She knelt down, her head almost touching the ground. Behind her, Sett was taken aback by the sudden gesture.

"Foxy, you don't have to-"

"He's lost. He needs a helping hand. He… He needs a guide. Please" She continued on, sounding distressed and anxious, fearing that she brought him this far for nothing. The ancient dragon breathed out a soothing breath, calming her nerves but not her emotions. His eyes met hers, full of understanding… and sorrow.

"**I want to help him, Nine-Tailed one. But if he himself doesn't know where he wants to go, we cannot take him anywhere. It is not out spite that I deny him aid, but out of inability. Innumerable pardons, Nine-Tailed one, but there's only so much I can do before I myself alter his fate, which is not a kind thing in any way.**" The dragon finished, hoping it would placate her fears. She raised her head to speak, but Sett stopped her, grabbing her shoulder to get her attention.

"Ahri. It's ok. He's right. _You_ were right." Having heard it from a dragon who looked into his soul, Sett finally accepted the fact that he was still at that forked road between his mother and his father. Sometimes, he wished there were no sides, but having conquered the underground of Ionian crime, he knew things were never that simple. It still didn't make him able to make the choice; there was a lot to walk through on both roads and he wanted it all. Thing is, when you try to control everything, you ultimately end up controlling nothing; if he went after his father and his mother found out, he would have to return to her in order to repair the damage he would inevitably do with choosing to escape, not to mention the arena collapsing on itself without him. What would his mother eat then? That was the other half; is he devoted himself to an honest life, he would be forced to hide from the things he would be leaving. All those crimes would eventually catch up to him and his mother and he was too afraid of not being able to protect her even for a moment. He was too far gone in Ionia's underground to even think of tearing away from it without a consequence of any kind.

He truly had the most unclear heart of them all.

He looked to the ancient dragon, the old beast looking at him with kind and worried eyes, ones his real father never provided him with.

"Thanks, geezer." It was the only clear thing he could utter at the moment.

"**May you find your fate before it finds you, child of two worlds.**" At those parting words, Sett turned away, walking swaying and slowly, unsure of where to go now more than ever. Ahri got up, plea and companions forgotten, rushing to his side and placing a helping hand on his shoulder, though whether it would actually help was unclear for her. Still, she remained by her friend's side, Sett silently appreciative of the support. The dragon watched them both for a moment, appreciative of Ahri's kindness to a lost soul. But there was one more soul the needed to be exposed. He turned to the Demacian, Garen standing yet uncertain of the future. The dragon eyed him, trying to pierce the veil of his soul… and found a titanic wall blocking his path. Whoever he was, his mind was closed and well-guarded. He tried flying over the fortress only to find the wall growing taller the higher he flew. There was a glow, a massive source of light coming from beyond, but he couldn't quite reach it. Knowing that to tear down these walls could cause damage, the dragon gave up, blinking away the fruitless effort.

"**How strange… This one's soul is muddied, guarded by something he believes is protecting him… Which makes his goals unclear to everyone but himself.**" The dragon spoke, making sure everyone heard him. Garen's friends were stumped; the fact that he was able to create a mental wall strong enough to hold off an ancient dragon's piercing gaze left them at a loss for words. Even the other dragons were perplexed by the event. Nevertheless, the old one didn't give up.

"**The truth about you is known to no one but yourself, lost light. You must now decide to reveal it. A daunting task for anyone, to be sure, but from the few grains of openness I can discern, your bravery is nigh endless. Will you call upon it and reveal yourself to me and your friends… or will you choose to walk your own path? Now is the time, lost light.**" The ancient dragon suddenly stretched upright, towering above all others and the village itself, the villagers stopping to see what the fuss was about. His kin turned to him, ready to obey his command or to listen intently for his wisdom. Irelia, Akali and Nami got a little anxious at the beginning, dropping it slowly with varying degrees, Nami still worried while Akali somewhat having faith in Thunder's lack of dishonesty. Irelia had nothing but complete trust in him and that was all she needed to calm down.

"**Decide, Demacian.**" His voice echoed throughout the area, even the trees hiding their leaves in trepidation of the ancient one's voice. The villagers stood still, some of them covering their ears. Everyone else stood on edge, awaiting Garen's answer with bated breath.

From his side of things, Garen thought about his answer without much hardship; this wasn't that different from when Illaoi tested him back in Buhru, meaning he knew where he was going. How he was getting there, however, was another story. Dragons of this part of the world were strangely kind, unlike their savage, forearmed western cousins. He wasn't at all surprised by them being able to speak, much less their mystical abilities. Given Ionia's general disposition toward it, he assumed magic claimed lordship over most anything here. Still, their willingness to help meant he was that much closer to his goal. He looked the ancient dragon in the eyes, the sun's light behind him accenting their emerald glow filled with wisdom and knowledge, a sight unlike any other even for Ionia. No more hesitation and no more fear. There was nothing more to lose and nothing more to prove.

"I want to return home."

Firm… silent, almost spoken to himself… unshaking and undaunted. It hit everyone listening to him hard and decisively, much like his favored battle tactic. No matter how much they tried, no one's mind could deny the strength of his wish, the purity of his heart and the will of his soul. From above, the old one bent down, satisfied with the flaring light behind the walls, a signal the he as telling the truth.

"**Then we will help you.**" The dragon smiled, his kin roaring behind him, making the crowd cheer a little in return before dispersing to lead their lives. From the sides, Akali and Nami pumped their fists in silent praise while Irelia simply smiled in confidence. He was truly growing, his heart the truest it has ever been since she met him, reflected in that bright smile on his face she always loved seeing. The thought caused her to drop her guard for the moment and as always, he unknowingly took advantage of it, that smile meeting hers, both of them now having reached the point where words were no longer needed.

'Thank you for bringing me this far.'

'You did all that yourself. I was just along for the ride.'

'Thank you for picking me up when I stumbled, then.'

'And thank you for doing the same for me.'

With those thoughts of gratitude conveyed through their eyes, their future course was set… and they would fly toward it together for as long as possible.

* * *

The village was bustling with curiosity, the residents wanting to see the travellers off, Irelia dance, Akali perform some tricks with her kama, Nami's magic and even touch Ahri's tails. Only Akalio obliged, having the time and energy to spare since she prepared before everyone else. Four hours had passed since the decisions were made, three dragons now awaiting their riders, all of them having volunteered to take them to their destinations. Sadly for them, they differed on all accounts, with Irelia wishing to take Garen further north to Hirana in order to seek spiritual aid regarding his goal. The dragons were unable to take him around the world, regrettably; not only would he need a massive supply of food and water, but the dragons themselves would be venturing into unknown territory with the great ocean separating them, something they wouldn't risk doing and something Garen understood why. Still, the fact that they were willing to help meant a lot, a fact he made extra sure to thank Ahri for. They all did, the fox having smugly accepted them all, but also sad to see them go; they genuinely seemed like an interesting bunch to be around, their small but eventful adventures having left a strong memory on her. Still, everyone had their own road to walk, something she understood on a personal level. Garen decided to go with Irelia, having no second thoughts on the matter while Nami, having located a solid clue in the ruins she had been told of by the dragons to go on, chose to pursue it. Akali had to return west to Navori and deliver the news, that and warn them of her missing plans and the possibility of retaliation.

All of this meant that, unfortunately, they had to break the fellowship up.

"I'm gonna miss you guys." Nami was the first to say it, having developed a strong bond with the Blade Dancer, the Rogue Assassin and the Might of Demacia.

"Us too, Nami. I'm honestly glad there are still people like you in the world. Brave yet smart… and occasionally snarky." Garen couldn't resist the urge to hug her, the Tidecaller returning the favor tenfold.

"If… If this is the last time we see each other, Garen, I wish you luck on your quest and may you return home safe." Nami teared up a bit, letting it swim between her eye and eyelid.

"I hope you do, too. Whatever the case, I'll always remember you, Nami." He had to let go at the end, no matter how much he didn't want to. He had grown attached to the young Marai even though he didn't want to admit in fear of holding her back. On Nami's end, she was going to miss her human big brother terribly.

"You have everything you need? Food? Potions?" Irelia wanted to make sure she was set for her trip, a detail that didn't fly over Nami's head that she sounded like a mother.

"Of course I do. Oh wait… aw, man, I think I forgot something important…" Nami did a mock frown, fake enough for Irelia to fall for.

"What is it?" She approached in concern.

"THIS!" Before Irelia could even let out the surprised yelp, Nami glomped her, nuzzling against her slightly.

"You little… Take care of yourself, sweetie." Irelia just let the Marai hold her as she did the same.

"You too, Irelia. Thank you for helping me get to where I am now." They let go, with all three of them turning to the one person that hated emotional events.

"… I don't do hugs." Akali made her antisocial habits perfectly clear… at least, she thought she did. As her head was turned in order to not let them see her face, Garen grabbed her from behind, sparking a surprised yell from the assassin as he pulled her in for a group hug.

"Not getting rid of us that easily!" Nami rubbed her cheek on Akali's.

"Squirm all you want, shorty. You aren't getting away unless I let you." Garen made extra sure to hold her tight without actually hurting her, a skill he learned by practicing on Lux back home years ago.

"Akali and human affection… Yeah, there's a pair for the ages." Irelia teased the helpless assassin as she ruffled her hair.

"… I truly, utterly, unequivocally hate you all." It was the only thing she had for them all, the rising corners of her lips betraying her true thoughts.

Despite everything they found awkward or bad about each other, they still thought of each other as friends, especially in this time of farewells. Not all was joyful, however.

From the other side of the dragon roost, Sett and Ahri sat together, content to be left alone with their thoughts, Sett still trying to figure out what to do with himself. The old dragon was right; he had no direction in his life and nowhere to go but stay in his little arena, walled off from the kindness of the world. Ahri was right; he had an impossible choice to make between his mother and the next fight. And finally, the one that hit hardest of all, his mother was right; he needed more people in his life, people of significance, of true bonds.

He couldn't do anything about any of those three, his only choice being to go back to the life he had before; the next fight. And the next after that…

Now that he had a little perspective without the money to cloud him, he truly saw exactly what kind of hell it truly was. Still, it was a living and everyone knew what an honest living made you. The vastaya beside him could only watch as he thought long and hard about his future.

"You know… I really do like the quiet times. No one to bother me, me and ma enjoying ourselves playing cards on the front porch, me letting her win just to see that smile on her face, drinking some juice, her sipping on her tea… I love seeing her happy." He spoke for the first time in four hours, watching the sun slowly descend and arrive at the point between its zenith and the horizon. Ahri perked up, having sat with him in silence for all that time.

"She's that kind, huh?"

"The kindest."

They sat in silence for a few moments more, listening to the bustle behind them. Sett's curiosity got the better of him, the hybrid turning to see what it was about. The villagers were crowding the travellers, trying to see their departure upon the dragons' backs.

"I'm actually jealous of him." Sett spoke the words out loud, not aware of it at all.

"Garen?"

"Yeah. He's so… focused. Determined. He has a reason to fight. That's why he was able to go even with me that night… That night… I'll never forget that night. Everything was cracking, people were running or cheering, but the only thing I could think of was beating him. And Garen? He couldn't care less, only wanting to ask me some questions… Strange… Maybe I could've avoided all of this, told him what he needed to know, not get wrapped up in this whole mess…" He was rambling coherently; it was what people did when they were either projecting or looking inside themselves. Sett was somehow managing both at the same time.

"I hate him, I really do. Gods, he's such a damn boy scout. But I also… also…" He was struggling spitting it out, so Ahri did it for him.

"… Respect him."

"… I truly do respect him. All he does to achieve his goal is just walk toward it, fighting anything that challenges him and repaying anyone that helps him. Hell, even yesterday's enemies are today's friends for him if he so chooses. It's so simple for him… Holy shit, the more I think about it, the more I wanna bash his face in… and pat him on the shoulder." He buried his face in his hands, trying to figure out what his next move was. Maybe the Demacian was in the right; all he really needed was the correct reason to fight. He found the urge to reach for his left inner vest pocket, clutching that precious picture of the person that stuck by him since forever. He took it out, not caring who was watching, and caressed the cheeks of her portrait, that soft face bringing him true peace.

"I wanna see her again, Ahri. I want to see her welcome me home, worried about where I was all these days… I want her in my arms…" One tear. That was all it took to convey how powerful that wish was. He promised he's only cry in front of his mother. Technically that was true, since it was her portrait on that small canvas, but he still felt vulnerable.

"Then what are we waiting for?" She got up, kneeling down to his face and wiping his tear off. She knew nothing would beat his mother's touch, but she would do all she could for him, seeing as how she got him this far.

"I know a shortcut." She said, hoping it would cheer him up. It definitely got him on his feet, the Boss fully restored and ready to go.

"Is that right? Well, then guess we better get going before-"

"-Before I find you?" Irelia's voice sounded off from behind them, making them wince a little. At her side, Garen stood with a stoic yet warm face.

"This is it, then, is it, Settrigh?" He asked the hybrid. Sett just shrugged with a smirk.

"I suppose it is. Although… if you ever drop by Ionia again, look me up." He approached the knight until he was face to face with him despite the height difference.

"… I want a rematch." There was no malice or ill will behind it; he genuinely wished to truly finish their fight. Garen found himself unable to not smile.

"In that case, you better make sure you train extra hard, Beast-Man."

"Back at ya, Justice Boy." Sett smirked back. Then, in a rare moment of respect, he extended his hand to the Demacian. Garen accepted it unconditionally; a strong grip, a firm handshake and a solid look in the eyes. Only fighters of equal caliber could understand the gesture, much less perform it. As they finished, Irelia folded her hands, a sign of mistrust. Sett noticed, having one last obstacle to deal with.

"I suppose you'll be threatening me now, eh?"

"No, but I will you give you this head start. I suggest you use it." Her voice was rather cold.

"What are you on about- Oh… Oh, so you remembered. Or did Shorty remind you?" Sett realized that Irelia finally grasped who he was back in her home province.

"Bit of both."

"We could just settle it here and now, you know."

"I've got more important matters to deal with than you. Consider this a courtesy… before I come back to Navori to put you behind bars." Her crest split in response, standing behind her decision, a sign that made Garen and Ahri back off in response.

"What a coincidence. So do I. And when you, well… You better make sure you bring a whole goddamn battalion." Sett just cracked his knuckles in response, putting the two bystanders even more on edge.

"So, uh… this is farewell, then?" Ahri's sweat was practically dripping from her forehead.

"So it is. Come on, Garen. We're done here." Irelia turned away, heading back to the dragons who were fully packed and ready for them. Garen gave one last nod of farewell to the duo before heading back himself, leaving Sett and Ahri alone with their fates. The two looked at each other before turning away, heading to the village's outer borders and all the way to the fog.

The villagers were all gathered around the three dragons, Garen and Irelia on the back of the dragoness that pestered the knight previously, now having volunteered to fly him and his companion to where they needed to go, Nami secured on top of a green-scaled and golden-finned one while Akali rode on a silverscale serpentine one. All four riders gave the go, the three dragons lifting high in the air and floating close to each other, letting the travelers say one last goodbye to each other.

"Stay safe, you two!" Irelia yelled out as she waved from behind Garen, holding onto him with one hand.

"'Till we meet again!" He waved as well.

"You know the former's not possible!" Akali yelled back.

"I'll miss you all!" Nami waved with a few tears in her face.

"Farewell!" They all somehow managed to yell out in unison, turning their dragons and at last, flying off on their own paths.

From below, the ancient dragon watched as his children carried Ionia's four hopes on their backs, though he decided against telling them that. It would be better if they achieved that accomplishment on their own. He looked to Garen in particular, the lone lost light feeling a little less lonely with the human whose soul resembled a dragon's beside him. He stretched out one last time, uttering a prayer upon the wind, knowing that it would be carried to them all.

"**May Ionia give you the strength to vanquish true evil… and the wisdom to recognize it.**"

* * *

Beneath the village, Ahri and Sett watched as the dragons left, both of them standing at the edge of the fog.

"Can't say I'm sad to see them go. In fact, I'm glad that blade bitch is outta my hair." Sett admitted, having no love for women like her at all.

"Scared she might chop you up?" Ahri teased him a bit.

"As if."

"What about the others?"

"The shorty I don't care about. Nams leaving, though… that's gonna leave a hole in my chest." Sett admitted his feelings for Akali and Nami. As he said the last part, Ahri's giggle returned.

"The hell you laughing at, Foxy?"

"So… Nami, huh?" She had the most coquettish look on her face, making the half-beast wary once more.

"What about her?" He had a feeling he walking into a trap, but took the bait anyway.

"Was it a one-time thing or do you actually have a crush on her?" It was truly astounding how a fox vastaya could pull off a cat smile, but Ahri did it masterfully.

"That's, uh… Well… I…" Sett was once again at a loss for words. He had met vastaya before, almost all of them hating him and his half-human side. Ahri wanted something in return, but she had no problem. Nami, though… She treated him just like any other person. She was kind and helpful, worrying about her friends getting into trouble and their overall health. The team's mother. That's what she was. She was also clever when she needed to be, tougher than she looked and packed quite a punch with her magic. In short, she was as perfect as they got, at least in his books. The hybrid suddenly found himself staring west, toward the direction Nami flew in.

"I don't know… I never really got to know her that well. Sure wish I did, though. She seemed…" Once again, losing words.

"… Nice. Not special, not elevated on a pedestal. Just a girl who cares very much about people, her own and those of Runeterra." Ahri stopped the teasing, caring for the half-beast that much, at least.

"… Yeah. She is amazing." He admitted. She had her own quest, which she told them about during their travels and how far from home she was and thus, had to embark on her own throughout Ionia to find what she was looking for. Still, Sett wished he could talk to her a bit more. Seeing no point dwelling on it, he turned to the fox, who eyed him with a smile.

"And what about Garen?" She asked, smile still on her face.

"How are you so sure he is gonna come back here in the future?" A genuine logical question, given what they knew about the Demacian.

"He will." Sett answered, turning north, the direction his fated rival flew in.

"Man like that doesn't leave debt unrepaid. He'll be back… one day. Until then, Foxy, we'd best get to living. Whaddaya say? You ready?" The Boss extended his elbow in a gentlemanly fashion, offering it to Ahri's hand. The Nine-Tailed Fox smiled in return, accepting his offer.

"Toward the future, then." She cheered before stepping through the veil, guiding the half-beast out.

The roads of fate are many, some intertwining and others clashing, some joining into one while others break away on their own. The one certain thing about all of them is that they eventually end, just like lives, just like wars and just like stories. But very often, the destination is irrelevant. It is the journey that counts the most, the people on its way and the troubles a traveler must overcome, by strength, wits or agility. Ionia was a land that understood this best of all, knowing that each road must be walked individually, but even the most willful traveler needs company and a helping hand every now and then, be it dragon, vastaya or human. As they asked, she provided for them.

And now, in this moment of truth and clarity, their roads finally separated, the seven fated travelers each pursuing their own destinies… until Ionia was ready to gather them all again and unite them under a far horizon and a confrontation that would pave the way for her future.


End file.
